


Here Be Dragons

by agirlnamedchuck



Category: The Hobbit (2012), The Hobbit - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Bilbo does not approve much of Gandalf, Bilbo is a dragon who'd like nothing more than to stay at home and read or smoke Old Toby, Dragons, Gandalf does not approve of this, M/M, Or the Dwarves
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-03-30
Updated: 2015-03-08
Packaged: 2017-12-06 23:12:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 15
Words: 53,479
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/741285
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/agirlnamedchuck/pseuds/agirlnamedchuck
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“Of course it has to be <em>Gandalf<em>.” Bilbo muttered, “I couldn’t just have some other wizard visit me.” </em></em></p>
<p>  <em><br/><em>Not that he’d be happier with any of the other wizards visiting him at all. If Saruman had appeared on his doorstep he’d die of fright or more likely shock. In the shire a saying had become popular after Belladonna Took had run off with the wizard and returned three days late for her wedding some months later: Where Gandalf went there would be trouble.</em></em><br/><em><br/><em>(Or the one where Bilbo is a dragon and still gets roped into reclaiming Erebor, Gandalf is a meddling Wizard, and Bilbo may have confusing feelings for Thorin Oakenshield)</em></em><br/></p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Of Conniving Wizards and homebody Dragons

Everyone in the shire knew there was something strange about one Mister Bilbo Baggins. They knew this the way they knew every Took child had a bit of mischief in them, how every Chubb would be a bit wider than most hobbits, and how every Brandybuck was a bit odd if well-meaning. These were just common facts and most hobbits accepted them as such. 

The first characteristic of mister Baggins’ oddity was that no one was entirely sure how long he’d been living in the shire or even how old he truly was. Even the Old Took who lived longer than anyone one hobbit could not recall a time when he hadn’t been around. In the end the residents of the Shire had decided with some amount of certainty that Bilbo had been around since the very beginning of the shire and would stay around until its end. 

The second oddity was that Baggins wasn’t his true last name. “Who’s to say if Bilbo is even really his first?” Lobelia Sackville-Baggins would say with a sniff. The family name Baggins had been graciously gifted to him by one Belladonna Baggins née Took. 

Belladonna had been a mischievous child and with a handful of siblings young and old she’d easily snuck away from her overwhelmed mother. At first she’d only adventured around to the streams nearby and climbing tall trees but eventually she’d found out about the mysterious Bilbo and to put it in the plainest sense had stalked the man for days until at last they were closer than anyone else you did see. Everyone knew that there was no one Bilbo viewed more fondly then dear Belladonna and after her husband died she’d gifted the home he’d built her to her sweet friend and had also given him a last name. Despite what everyone told her, possibly in spite of what everyone told her, she knew it was the right decision and knew her Bungo would approve. 

That is not to say Bilbo was unkind to other hobbits, merely reserved though he always smiled politely at most and smiled kindly on the resident hobbitlings, who were possibly the most taken in with the hobbit-like man. The only exception that anyone could remember was Lobelia Sackville-Baggins née Bracegirdle who’d taken one look at him as a fauntling and (loudly) declared him no good. 

The last most damning characteristic was that despite looking like a hobbit with small size, curly hair, and large feet, and for the most part acting like a hobbit, Bilbo wasn’t. For sometimes his eyes looked almost gold in the light, and during the winter when you could hear the wolves howl Mister Baggins would only cock his head and frown. No one but the Thain was entirely sure what he was and when pressed for answer the Thain would start muttering about gossipmongers and strangely enough wizards. 

There were many more traits that made up Bilbo’s eccentricities, as any hobbit lass or lad could and would eagerly tell you, for instance his smial was always unreasonably warm, even in winter, but to do so would take all day and night and no hobbit with common sense had the time to waste for that. 

In the end the hobbits had decided to accept Bilbo as one of their own and never thought otherwise. 

Bilbo in general, seemed amused by the way the hobbits treated him but had no other reaction. He was content enough with his slate in life; he ate comfortably, lived comfortably and collected a strange matter of things ranging from books to maps to trinkets the children of the shire made him. 

Despite all of his strangeness for the most part Bilbo Baggins acted wholly like a hobbit and you would not be surprised to stroll past Bag End and find him sitting on his bench, reading a good book or smoking Old Toby or entertaining a group of shirelings with grand tales of adventure. 

That was in fact exactly where he was on the morning Gandalf the Grey arrived. He sat on his bench, a book in hand as a sullen hobbit sat at his feet, occasionally pulling up clumps of grass. “Are you going to tell Prim?” 

Bilbo glanced down and Paladin Took’s anxious face greeted him, no longer scowling. “That depends, are you going to do it again?” Paladin Took had snuck into Bilbo’s study and had inadvertently destroyed two maps, three books, and a golden necklace he’d been given by Belladonna. Bilbo still wasn’t entirely sure how it happened but he knew the young lad hadn’t been intentionally malicious merely curious. 

Paladin considered this and then quickly shook his head. “I swear I won’t!” 

“Won’t what?” A new familiar voice cut in and both turned to see Primula Brandybuck strolling up the path; Paladin’s younger sister Esmeralda held snuggly to her hip. Paladin’s other sister, Ruby looked at them with suspicion. 

“You did something.” Ruby accused and Paladin flushed bright red and shook his head. “I did not, you liar!” 

Prim rolled her eyes as the two started arguing and she smiled at Bilbo. “Thanks again Mister Baggins, I hope he wasn’t too much trouble. Pal means well but he just always gets into trouble.” That very reason was why she’d left him in Mister Baggins care but allowed Ruby to go with her to run errands. 

Bilbo smiled widely back at her. “It was no trouble at all my dear. He was a perfect guest.” Not entirely true but he’d suffered worse hobbits under his care, Belladonna for instance. 

“See! Mister Bilbo says I was perfect!” Paladin said and then stuck out his tongue. 

“Mister _Baggins _is being polite.” Ruby said with all the air of an older sibling.__

Primula sighed, “I better get them going before they start throwing fists again. Thanks once more for watching him, Old Missus Proudfoot isn’t too keen on Pal being anywhere near her pumpkins after last time.” 

Bilbo only smiled again and started going back to his book as Primula called them back into order. With Paladin gone he had no other plans for the day and he pondered thought of smoking some Old Toby before supper. 

“Come along cousins! I’ll never hear the end of it if we’re late again.” Primula said and the little pitter-patter of tiny feet followed as they stepped out the gate. 

“Prim, aren’t you going to tell him about the funny man?” Ruby hissed, trying to be quiet and failing, as was the way of children.

“What funny man?” Paladin asked confused. 

“Mister Baggins?” Primula said coming to stand back by his gate, a look of concern on her face. At that point Bilbo had already put down his book and he was half way to the gate himself when he stopped, staring at her anxiously.

He had to remind himself to remain calm. There could be plenty of funny men, it didn’t have to be that specific man. The last he’d heard that ‘man’ had been off somewhere near the mountains.

“Yes Prim?” 

“Ruby, Esmeralda and I were at the markets and when we left we came upon this man.” Primula’s tone was hesitant and Ruby eagerly took the chance to cut in. “He looked really funny!”

“What funny man?” Paladin repeated growing irritated at being ignored. 

“You shouldn’t call someone funny just because they dress a bit strange.” Prim scolded and Ruby’s pointy ears flushed but she didn’t look too abashed. 

“Oh?” Bilbo said, and he had the sense that his hopes were going to be dashed because while Big Folk came to the shire, rarely were they dressed ‘funny’ enough for even someone as insensible as Prim to take notice. 

Ruby nodded quickly. “He wore long grey robes! And had a strange hat! Can you imagine?” 

Bilbo closed his eyes and fought off the urge to scream or hide. That still could have been anyone. 

“Then he stopped us and asked us if a mister Bilbo still lived at Bag End and we said yes he did and he said thank you and went on his way.” Ruby looked considerate for a moment. “He’ll probably be here soon, he was old but he wasn’t slow like my gram.”

“Ruby!” Primula snapped exasperated but there was a slight grin on her face and the corner of her eyes crinkled. 

“Thank you my dears.” Bilbo said, stunned and with dread filling the center of his stomach. “I think the funny man you saw happens to be an old friend of mine.” 

Paladin looked up, staring at him with wide eyes. “Is he like you then?” Ruby stared up at him curiously and even Prim looked unashamedly interested. 

“No, I should think not.” Bilbo grinned then, all for show because inwardly he was panicking. “There’s no one quite like me anywhere. I’m entirely unique.” 

The children ooed at his words and leaned in eagerly for more as Prim laughed loudly. “Oh really?”

“Unfortunately that’s a tale for another time.” He said with some regret and started backing away from the gate. The shirelings looked disappointed but within minutes they were heading back down the path, Paladin turning to look curiously at him every now and then. When he could see them no more his façade of calm broke and Bilbo darted inside and slammed the door shut with a bang. 

“Of course it has to be _Gandalf _.” Bilbo muttered, “I couldn’t just have some other wizard visit me.”__

Not that he’d be happier with any of the other wizards visiting him at all. If Saruman had appeared on his doorstep he’d die of fright or more likely shock. In the shire a saying had become popular after Belladonna Took had run off with the wizard and returned three days late for her wedding some months later: Where Gandalf went there would be trouble. 

Bilbo supported the saying wholeheartedly. 

He paced and paced and then when he realized he was pacing went sat down in his armchair, only when he realized he also didn’t feel like sitting did he stand up and go to the kitchen and start making some tea hoping it would calm his nerves. 

“Damn wizards, I know what he’ll want to. Some inane scheme or request like he always has.” Bilbo said, only stopping to realize that he was essentially talking to his kitchen. He didn’t care much. Gandalf on the best of days could be considered one of his closest and most dearest friends, on the worst he feared him like the plague and if he could he would have the Thain try to ban him from the Shire. Good or bad it was always tinged with exasperation. He’d long grown used to the wizard’s scheming. 

A loud knock on the door interrupted his thoughts and though it almost physically pained him to answer, he could not ignore the wizard like some foolish child. 

“Gandalf.” He greeted and his tone must have sounded so resigned because the wizard’s bushy eyebrows rose right up, a smile quirked on his face. “Whatever it is, I’m not interested.” 

“Interested in what?” Gandalf said with a touch of knowing in his voice and Bilbo scowled, uncaring that more than one hobbit was looking at them with interest. 

“Whatever adventure you’re cooking up.” Bilbo said exasperated. “and don’t say you aren’t because I know you, there’s always an adventure with you.” 

Gandalf laughed, not unkindly. “To think I lived to see the day that one of your kind refuses an adventure.” He said adventure but Bilbo was almost positive he meant ‘death’ and quite possibly ‘gold’ which in his opinion might be even worse than death. 

Bilbo’s scowl deepened.

“What would you have me do then? Pilfer villages? Kidnap princesses? Maybe go after a kingdom or two?” He demanded to know, speaking low enough so that only the wizard in front of him could hear. 

“I would have you live to do more than baby-sit Paladin Took!” Gandalf said and his voice deepened as he rose to his full height, without a doubt proclaiming his mere presence as one of the fearsome and powerful maiar, to any other person it would have been the most intimidating thing they would have ever experienced without a doubt. Bilbo merely shook his head. “I have a task that requires some skills--”

“No, no adventures. No tasks. No nothing. I am staying at Bag End where I belong and that is final!” He said and with only a small amount of hesitation closed the door. Years before he’d learned that when it came to the maiar, having a strong and often repeated answer worked best. 

Bilbo let his head hit the door with a thud and sighed. 

On the other side of the door Gandalf didn’t look offended in the least, he only smiled and bent down to burn a peculiar rune into the green door before straightening up and rising to his full height. Bilbo may be stubborn but wasn’t that the nature of dragons. 

“This will do you some good and provide me with some amusement.” Gandalf chuckled and then started back down the path, there were still many preparations left. He only hoped the dwarves didn’t terrify Bilbo too much before he arrived. 

By the time evening rolled around Bilbo’s ire had mostly faded and he deemed it safe enough to venture back outside. Still somewhat cautious Bilbo walked around to the edge of Hobbiton and back, uncaring when he heard some hobbits say knowingly that something was bothering Mister Baggins, for everyone knew he only checked the barrier when he was ‘in a mood.’

“Damn wizards.” Bilbo repeated with a shake of his head and then went and prepared dinner for himself. 

The first dwarf, an impressively large fellow named Dwalin that made even Bilbo slightly intimidated, had been met with shock. By the time the last of them, had fallen onto his floor in a pile it was still somewhat of a surprise though anger was quickly overtaking it. 

“Dwarves.” Bilbo muttered pacing back and forth as the dwarves made a mess of his home and ate his food, ate all of his food by the looks of it. To think he had an entire pack of them at Bag End! If anyone knew they’d laugh themselves to death. Occasionally he would stop his pacing, peek in, grimace at what he saw and go back to pacing. 

Gandalf in fact did laugh at him, looking content and at that Bilbo stopped pacing and wheeled around to glare at the wizard. “I cannot believe you brought an entire company of dwarves into my home! Dwarves!” He hissed out and winced when he caught sight of the dinning room again. 

“What makes you think they won’t try to kill me where I stand?” Bilbo said frustrated because even he knew that dwarves hated dragons, even more than they hated elves which was an impressive feat in itself. He did not think Gandalf would let them but he knew how far hatred could carry. 

“They know nothing of your status.” Gandalf assured him hastily. “Only that you are quick footed and small, capable of being unseen and essential to this company.”

“Why have you brought them here?” Bilbo said and felt a bit like young Paladin Took for how much he had to keep repeating himself. “Why _me _?”__

At last the wizard sighed and they moved into a room farther away. “It’s hard to think that once the races of men and elves alike feared you so greatly.” Gandalf pondered and Bilbo’s irritation lessened and he sat down in his armchair and tried to ignore the dwarves lingering in his kitchen. How anyone could completely ignore them he was unsure.

“And you would have me go back to that then?” Bilbo said wryly. “To being feared and terrible?” 

Gandalf looked at him and his eyes seemed too blue and though he’d never seen the maiar to truly look that age at that moment his friend looked very old and weighed down by the problems of the world. Perhaps that was what made his anger fade away completely. “I would have you live for more than the words in your books and your maps, to travel beyond the ends of your shire.”

He laughed quietly. “Wasn’t that the point? To stay at the shire?” 

“Perhaps once.” Gandalf acquiesced, voice grave. “But that has been a very long time since.”

Bilbo remained silent, and for a moment the silence stretched and then Gandalf sighed again. 

“Are you asking me this as a favor?” Bilbo said with an air of seriousness that made the wizard pause for in their entire time of knowing each other, one single favor, a debt that could not be repaid by anything less than the biggest of oaths, had existed between them. 

Both of them knew that if Gandalf asked him to do this as the favor, to go on whatever insane adventure involving dwarves this was, then Bilbo would do it without a second thought or protest. To do otherwise would sully the unthinkable act Gandalf had done so long ago.

He held his breath and waited, at last the wizard stood up. “I cannot ask this of you as a favor. All I can ask is that as your friend, you listen and prove to be less stubborn than your kin.”

“Alright, I can do that.” Bilbo said uncomfortable but relieved and they went back to join the dwarves. Even Bilbo’s grim spirits were lightened as he spent more time with the dwarves though he scowled when ever Gandalf looked over at him with a knowing smirk, eventually however they were all silenced by a loud pounding at the door. 

“Another one?” Bilbo groaned and Gandalf stood and went to the door, a troop of suddenly silent dwarves and a reluctant ‘hobbit’ following him. 

Bilbo was almost stunned at the sight of the new dwarf. There was nothing entirely special about him, his dark hair was intricately braided as was his shorn beard, he stood taller than most dwarves and dressed more finely then the others Bilbo had seen, altogether he cut a rather intimidating figure. But it was nothing truly special and yet still something in Bilbo lurched at the sight of him. 

Get a grip he thought anxiously, his eyes never leaving the new dwarf’s form. He’d seen vast treasures and wonders that men could only dream about, had flown to far away places that existed only in myths, had meet beings more beautiful then he could provide a description for. He could not, should not, be stunned at the sight of some dwarf no matter how nice looking. 

His admiration was somewhat lessened when the dwarf turned took look at him and practically dripped arrogance as he said with an evident amount of dismissal, “Who is this?” He wasn’t even looking at Bilbo anymore but at Gandalf with a hint of accusation. 

Bilbo resisted scowling for what felt like the tenth time that day. Gandalf gestured over at him. “Bilbo, allow me to introduce you to the leader of our company Thorin Oakenshield.”

When Thorin called him a grocer for a second Bilbo almost wished he could breathe fire again, at the very least he wished for his claws. 

The dwarves followed Thorin into the dinning room and when Gandalf followed them Bilbo had no choice but to. At this point underneath the layers of grumbling and protesting and being dismissed by some dwarf-child, even he was curious about what this so called adventure might be. 

When he realized it was about a dragon, about a treasure, Bilbo could not help but look over at Gandalf with accusing eyes, barely containing his fury. What did the meddling wizard think he could do about a dragon? Especially like this. 

As they kept talking Bilbo felt something twist and turn in his stomach and he pled weakness, heading outside and sitting down on his bench, running a hand through his hair and trying to let the clean smell of the air and the bright stars calm him down. Sometime later, when the sky had grown even darker Bilbo looked up at the sound of footsteps, expecting Gandalf and almost cursed at the sight of Thorin. For all his damned admiration of the dwarf, Bilbo still felt like snarling at him and then felt ashamed of himself for letting some youngling get to him with a few haughty words. 

“I would like to apologize for my words. I should not have been so rude to someone who’s provided shelter and food for me and my kin, not without prompting.” Thorin said in his deep voice, sitting down on the bench next to him. Bilbo looked him over and almost rolled his eyes. This was no doubt Gandalf’s doing, trying to appease his pride. 

The words were sincere enough and he doubted he’d hear better, especially if any of the company found out what he was. “Apology accepted.” He said shortly and then sighed. “I cannot go with you and your company. I don’t know what Gandalf has told you but I’m not much fond of adventures.”

Thorin frowned but did not look entirely surprised. Clearly despite his apology he still thought less of the smaller man. Bilbo couldn’t blame him, looking like this he wasn’t such an impressive sight and he didn’t act much like a burglar, though he was still somewhat offended. “You care not for adventures but what of Gold? Erebor is filled with the finest treasures, one-fourteenth of it would be yours.”

Bilbo’s stomach dropped and his hands tightened into fists. “No, I desire not for gold, Master Dwarf.” Not anymore. Never anymore. 

It became silent then and he thought the dwarf would leave or be angry but he wasn’t. He merely stayed where he was as Bilbo looked around fondly at his shire . He’d disliked it at first, hated it even. To go from the skies and the battlefields to a place so green and cozy but now he could not imagine himself remaining anywhere else. This was his home now. 

“What do you desire then?” Thorin said suddenly and Bilbo almost jumped at the sound of his rough voice after so long of stillness. 

His smile was rueful as he spoke. “Things I can no longer have.” 

Though he desired for his lost kin and his lost form, the thing he missed most was flying. To someone who’d never been flying they wouldn’t understand the loss. But it was a loss and a great one. He mourned being grounded, mourned the thought of never soaring in the skies again though he’d accepted it long ago. 

Bilbo stood up and cracked out the sore muscles in his back, trying to ignore the sudden itching he felt in the place his wings had once been. “I wish you all the luck in the world Master Dwarf and I hope you can reclaim your home.” If the dwarf had something to say Bilbo left him no chance to speak it for he quickly walked back into Bag End, overtly aware of the intense gaze on his back. 

Later he lay in bed, twisting and turning restlessly as the dwarves strangely haunting song lingered in his ears even as some of Gandalf’s previous words echoed in his head. 

No adventures he thought but it was only a half-hearted thought at best and it could not stand up to the possibilities of adventure or the strange way Bilbo felt when looking at Thorin Oakenshield. By the time he had finally closed his eyes he’d already accepted that he would be going on an adventure. 

“Conniving wizards.” he grumbled and then fell asleep, his dreams filled with dwarves and mountains and though he’d never admit it, though he feared it, in his dreams there was also piles upon piles of gold and treasure.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1\. All the Hobbits and Hobbitlings mentioned are canon save for one. Paladin is the father of Pip, Esmeralda is his younger sister, Primula is the mother of Frodo. Ruby Took is only non-canon because despite Paladin having three other sisters we don't know there names so I had to pick one. I chose Ruby based off of Esmeralda's. 
> 
> 2\. Prim and the Tooks are in fact related in canon though I'm not entirely sure how and pretty much gave up trying to explain more than them being cousins of sort. 
> 
> 3\. Bilbo's lack of dragonness will be explained later, most likely through vagueness. 
> 
> 4\. Gandalf is a conniving, meddling wizard and should not be trusted whether you be a hobbit or a dragon.


	2. Of Tales and Trolls

The first thing Bilbo does when he wakes up to an empty house is to creep outside and head for the Thain’s. The dwarves have only left a little bit before and if he knows Gandalf half as well as he believes he does then the wizard will have them on a steady pace a hobbit could easily catch up to. 

Lalia greeted him at the door with a less then pleased expression though the Took matriarch had never liked him much and like him even less when he was standing on her doorstep when the sun had barely risen. “Bilbo Baggins.” she said the way you might say a particularly rotten word. 

“My lady.” He said with a smile. “Is Fortinbras home?”

She rolled her eyes but moved out of the way to let him step in. “Mister Baggins at this time _everyone _is home but you.” The Thain’s office was down the hall as it always was but he hesitated for a moment. The last time he’d been inside had been during the height of the Fell Winter and things had ended…explosively between him and the Thain. That nasty business though had been with Fortinbras’ father, the previous Thain and really he had no reason to linger except for his own reservations about doing this.__

Though last night he’d somehow talked himself into actually going on this ‘adventure’ with Thorin’s company, in the morning it seemed reason had returned to him and he struggled the entire way to the Thain’s house on whether he should go or not. 

“Well aren’t you going in?” Lalia said irritated and he looked back at the Mistress Took and quickly hurried inside. He’d take dwarves and whatever else lay on this adventure over Lalia Took’s temper any day. 

“Bilbo.” the Thain greeted. “What brings you here? Nothing troubling I hope?” There was a knowing gleam in the hobbit’s eyes and Bilbo almost flushed when he realized he was talking about the dwarves. No wonder they needed someone quiet to help them reclaim Erebor. 

“Troubling? No, no. Nothing of the sort.” Bilbo said shaking his head. “I just needed to inform you that I’m--” What was he even doing exactly? How did you best explain going on a madcap quest to a hobbit of all creatures? 

Fortinbras frowned, “You’re what?” 

Bilbo struggled for something to say and then blurted out the first thing that came to his mind. “I’m escorting Gandalf the Grey on important wizard business.” Most hobbits would have shied away but Fortinbras looked almost exasperated. 

“Of course you are.” The Thain shook his head, “I suppose there’s nothing to it then. You’ll be back?”

Bilbo smiled at him. “Where else would I go?” Once it might have been said with bitterness but now there was nothing but fondness when he spoke of the Shire. It was his home now as much as anything else had been. 

Fortinbras hummed in reply already turning his attention back to a pile of important looking papers on his desk and Bilbo stood up feeling almost surprised at how easy it was to leave. He shouldn’t have been, hobbits were easier going then most folks and he’d been around for a long time. Whether he knew it or not Bilbo Baggins had obtained a strange sort of respectability. 

“Bilbo?” The Thain said when he was about to leave and Bilbo stopped, because this was it wasn’t it? This was the catch, obviously there had to be a catch for him to leave so easily. “Good luck on your journey.” 

That was it then. For the first time in centuries Bilbo Baggins was free to go where he pleased, free to leave his shire. There was nothing that could stop him now. Nothing but himself anyway. 

“I’m free.” Bilbo said in wonderment, because sometimes there are thoughts and words so hard to understand that if you didn’t say them out loud you would never imagine they were real at all. He felt a smile break over his face and he broke into a run, feeling younger than he had in years. “I’m free!”

It took him longer than he thought to catch up with the dwarves, unused to the feel of a heavy pack resting against his spine but within no time he could see them---a trail of ponies made recognizable by the wizard with his wide brim hat sitting in the middle, and he yelled out for them to wait, holding the signed contract in his hand. 

“I signed it.” He said somewhat out of breath and staring up at the still impressive sight of Thorin Oakenshield. The dwarf looked him over and almost scoffed before saying to get him a pony.

Bilbo paused and then shook his head uncomfortable. “No, no I’ll be fine walking really.” Animals didn’t like him much. He never knew if it was because he didn’t like them much or if they just sensed that there was something off about him, if he still had the air of predator. The animals of the shire, long domesticated had grown use to his presence over the years. But the ones outside to even the most docile of mares had always reacted badly to him. The whites of their eyes would show, they’d stamp nervously and usually rear up and try to get as far away as possible from him. 

The feeling was entirely mutual. 

Before he could protest any further he was lifted up into the air and onto a pony. The pony neighed nervously and he leaned a hand down to call her. The next thing he knew he was lying on the ground, back stinging painfully.  
“Are ye alright, lad?” The dwarf in the strange hat said to him and Bilbo thought his name might have started with a ‘B’ which didn’t exactly narrow it down. Bilbo smiled up at him and was about to reassure him when he was cut off by Thorin. 

“He’s fine.” The dwarf king said briskly. “And if he’s not then he better get use to it. This company will not wait for no man, least a halfling.”

Bilbo glowered at him as Thorin sped up, moving his pony along to the front of the company. “Don’t mind him, he’s in a mood.” The dwarf who Bilbo remembered as being Bofur said as he struggled to get back onto his pony, only succeeding when Gandalf helped him up. He looked at him expectantly but when the other said nothing else he sighed.

“Gandalf.” He greeted his spirits somewhat lessened though really it shouldn’t have been. Thorin Oakenshield had been rude and arrogant from the first second they’d met, he should have expected no less from a dwarf who thought so little of him. 

“What are they doing?” Bilbo said watching as some of the dwarves threw bags of money at each other. 

The wizard hid a smirk, looking at him fondly. “I believe they had bets on whether or not you’d join us.” 

Bilbo raised an eyebrow. “Yeah? And what’d you think?” He thought he already knew the answer. When one of the maiar wanted something to happen it was almost inevitable that it would indeed happen. 

An old wizened hand darted up into the air suddenly and Gandalf put his newly earned money away, smirk showing freely now. “I never doubted you for a second.”

“Of course you didn’t.” He muttered and yet he was still touched. If nothing else at least Gandalf had faith on him. 

The day dragged on, long and hot under the sweltering sun and Bilbo was the most relieved he’d ever been when they settled in for camp that night. Most of the others fell asleep quickly but Bilbo could not. The only ones still awake were Balin, the two princes and Thorin himself. 

After he’d spent some time twisting and turning and trying to ignore all the unfamiliar sounds and smells he stood up and wandered over to where Gandalf sat knowing the wizard slept rarely. “What troubles you my friend?” 

Bilbo settled in next to him, looking up at the dark sky and trying to find some familiarity in the stars. He hadn’t expected to feel so _homesick _. “I’m concerned for my shire.” he admitted in a low voice mostly because if anyone knew how much he’d disliked the Shire at first then it would be Gandalf the Grey.__

__“They’ve faired well without you in the past, one small adventure will not do any harm.” Gandalf reasoned._ _

__Bilbo did not point out, even though he would have liked to, that in the past it had always been guaranteed he would return safely. This was different then traveling to Imaldris to visit a few elves with Belladonna. This was dangerous._ _

__A strange shrill sound filled the air and his head snapped up in alarm, eyes widening slightly as it rang throughout the night sky. “What was that?”_ _

__“Orcs.” Kili said knowledgably from his place by the fire._ _

__Bilbo frowned, still staring at him in concern._ _

__He remembered orcs vaguely--dragons were interested in beautiful things, treasure things, and orcs? Orcs were as far from a treasure as anything he could think of, so his kin rarely took notice of them or goblins. Did they sound like that so shrill and high-pitched? He couldn’t remember that far back. Unfortunately he still remembered their taste. Vile creatures. Ugh._ _

__Fili and Kili spun a tale of the horrors of orcs and Bilbo listened almost entranced, only to have it broken up by Thorin’s gruff rebuttal. Balin had wandered back over to the company then and told his own tale of the forsaken dwarven kingdom of Moria._ _

__This time Bilbo was entranced for though dragons valued treasure they valued riddles and stories just as much and he’d clung to that trait. He felt true terror at hearing of the pale orc, Azog and his oath to wipe out the line of Durin. Something warmed coiled in his stomach as Balin told of Thorin’s great victory with nothing but a branch as a shield. For the first time Bilbo almost viewed Thorin as a king instead of an unruly dwarf._ _

__He glanced over at the dwarf king, unsurprised to see that the rest of the company had woken up sometime during the story and clearly they had been just as drawn in as he had. Though Thorin had shown him nothing but scorn and clearly doubted him Bilbo’s admiration grew at the knowledge of his bravery. He might even have to admit there was more to Thorin then what he seemed. At that very moment spurned on by some strange desire Bilbo Baggins swore that he’d prove his worth. Whether this actually came to pass remained to be seen._ _

__Of course this was when the business with the trolls occurred. He shouldn’t have been roped into it. He was a very old and very responsible dragon and he shouldn’t have fell so easily to a few pleading looks and words from some younglings. But Gandalf had left and he was still trying to find his ground, to see where he belonged in this company of dwarven warriors.  
It had been going fine really. He’d gotten to the ponies and had started trying to burn the ropes away (as slowly as that took) when Kili had run in set on rescuing the ponies and apparently him. _ _

__Bilbo felt almost exasperated as the rest of the dwarves came charging in. As it was he just took the time to quickly free the ponies and did his best to stay out of the way. A few burns wouldn’t do a thing to troll skin, thick as rocks it was. He’d been feeling proud of himself when a large hand picked him by the leg and let him hang upside down._ _

__If anyone had told him he’d be dying because of becoming a snack for a bloody troll then he would have laughed himself to death. As it was Bilbo felt more than a little embarrassment when that seemed to be in his future._ _

__“Excuse me!” Bilbo said, hobbling to his feet mind frantically cooking up a plan. It wasn’t one of his bests, even he’d admit that, but he was short on time and it looked like the company would be breakfast soon. “Can I give you some advice?”_ _

__The troll who was doing the actual cooking looked over at him with its beady eyes. “What?” he said as the others huffed in annoyance._ _

__Bilbo moved closer, trying to see the sun on the horizon. “You’re making a horrible mistake, really. You can’t use _sage _to season a bunch of dwarves! Have you smelt them?”___ _

____“What do you know about cooking dwarves?” A different one said and Bilbo was pretty sure it was the one who had threatened to rip off his arms from earlier._ _ _ _

____He resisted rolling his eyes. “I’ve cooked plenty of dwarves actually, there’s a lot of skill and secret to it, if you want them to turn out right.”_ _ _ _

____“Yeah? What’s the secret then?” The cooking troll said and Bilbo smiled thinly. “You’ve got to skin them first, makes them tender.” He said with an air of experience even as the dwarves started to protest (loudly.)_ _ _ _

____“Fetch me fillet.” the cooking troll instructed._ _ _ _

____“I’m not sure how much good it’d do with this lot though.” Bilbo continued on. He looked around and then leaned in to the troll as if to whisper, though he made sure his voice carried over to the company. “They’ve got worms--parasites in their tubes, nasty business.”_ _ _ _

____“Parasites!” The trolls reared back and Bilbo glanced over at the protesting dwarves and scowled at them._ _ _ _

____A large hand jerked down and picked him up for the second time that evening until Bilbo Baggins was face to face with a trouble. The experience was scarring really. “ I think he’s trying to take us as fools. What should we eat then?” From the new height Bilbo noticed a flash of grey robes darting through the trees._ _ _ _

____“Eat me.” He said suddenly. “I’m not infested at all.” The troll looked considerate and then nodded and opened his mouth to eat him when Gandalf (finally) appeared. Bilbo dropped to the ground as the trolls turned to stone._ _ _ _

____“You have the worst timing in the world.” Bilbo told the wizard as the company resituated itself. Gandalf merely smiled which infuriated him to no end and went off to speak with Thorin._ _ _ _

____“Were you really going to let him eat you?” Fili said after he and Kili had apologized for letting the ‘hobbit’ deal with the trolls on his own. Unlike Thorin their apologies seemed to be completely sincere and without the prompting of a wizard._ _ _ _

____Bilbo shrugged, trying to work his sore muscles back into place. “If it came down to it, probably? I was hoping it wouldn’t.” If it came down to it, he’d try to free his hands and burn the bloody things, effective or not. Sometimes even he could admit Gandalf, despite his lateness, was useful._ _ _ _

____They looked at him appraisingly and when they found whatever they were searching for they nodded together, strangely in sync. “You’re alright Mister Boggins.” Kili declared and it startled a laugh out of him._ _ _ _

____“I’m glad I meet the standards of dwarven royalty.” he said wryly though somewhat touched._ _ _ _

____Ori came over to them after he’d escaped from his older brothers’ mother-henning. “They think there’s a troll hoard nearby!” He said excitedly, becoming a bit shyer when he noticed Bilbo._ _ _ _

____Fili and Kili grinned and they headed for the cave as Bilbo sat down._ _ _ _

____“Yer not going in then?” Bofur said coming to a stop. “Could be treasure.” His voice was sing-song at that and Bilbo smiled slightly but shook his head, the dwarf shrugged and went to follow his kin._ _ _ _

____A dragon always knew where gold lay and he could feel this particular treasure only a little bit away, in a nearby cavern. It’d been easy to ignore at first what with the troll business and nearly being eaten but now there was nothing to distract him from the promise of gold and his skin tingled irritably in return. He feared stepping inside, feared the loss of control it might bring to be surrounded by so much. He would not lose himself to greed the way his kin was accustomed. Bilbo Baggins was for all intensive purposes more respectable then that. More _human _then such a thing.___ _ _ _

______He did not escape it entirely, the smell of gold clung to the dwarves and Gandalf gifted him a sword. “I can’t take this.” He said trying to give it back but stopping at the firm look the wizard gave him._ _ _ _ _ _

______“You are smaller now then you were before, weaker now. You cannot rely on your own power to protect you much longer.” Gandalf said in a tone of grave seriousness. “If you will not take it for your own good, then take it ease my mind.”_ _ _ _ _ _

______Without another word he took the damn sword, even he could grudgingly admit it was still impressive despite its small size._ _ _ _ _ _

______Radagast the Brown appeared then causing a panic throughout the company though Bilbo did not remember his name at first. He’d seen the wizard once but long ago, at the very counsel that had decided his fate. He looked at the wizard with suspicious and moved closer to Bifur. He’d had enough of wizards, thank you very much._ _ _ _ _ _

______Howls filled the air then and there was no mistaking them this time. He saw the way the company reacted with fear and felt a shudder go down his spine._ _ _ _ _ _

______“They’re all crazy.” Bilbo muttered to himself as Radagast volunteered to lure a pack of orcs away on a sled pulled by rabbits of all things. “Of course they are.”_ _ _ _ _ _

______“Bilbo, come on!” Bofur called as the company broke into a run lead by Gandalf. Bilbo shook his himself out of his stupor and quickly caught up, heart pounding in fear. The howls were closer now as they ventured into open area and not for the first time he wondered what he was doing here._ _ _ _ _ _

______They hid pressed up against a rock, a scout standing above it and Bilbo watched as Kili let loose an arrow so quickly he thought he felt the sky itself shift. The warg and its rider fell down in front of them but neither were dead and their howls and screeches filled the air until the company killed it. By then it was too late and the orc pack had started back in their direction._ _ _ _ _ _

______They ran again, farther and farther into the valley until at last they could go no further surrounded by the pack. Bilbo searched anxiously for Gandalf but the wizard had disappeared and the pack drew closer._ _ _ _ _ _

______“This way you fools.” Gandalf cried out and Bilbo didn’t think, didn’t do anything but follow the sound of his comforting voice and slid down into a pit. The line of Durin was the last to join them and Bilbo thought they were still going to die when he heard the sound of a familiar horn._ _ _ _ _ _

______Elves he thought relief spreading through him even as sounds of the fighting continued from above them. Thank Yavanna for Elves!_ _ _ _ _ _

______Though the dwarves did not know which way the path ahead of them led Bilbo did and he could barely contain his excitement._ _ _ _ _ _

______“Was this your plan along?” He murmured quietly to Gandalf as the company started walking forward. The wizard laughed, “ My dear boy, I have no idea what you mean.”_ _ _ _ _ _

______The unforgettable, irreplaceable sight of Rivendell bathing in sunlight greeted them and the pure beauty of it almost took Bilbo’s breath away as he stared at it like a dying man. He’d grown fond of it whenever Gandalf dragged him on his ‘adventures’ and to see it now after such an ordeal lightened his heart and his step._ _ _ _ _ _

______Bilbo glanced back at Gandalf to see him and Thorin arguing, a frown on Gandalf’s wizened face and a look of pure distaste on the dwarf king’s. He hesitated and then shook his head, the matter didn’t concern him._ _ _ _ _ _

______A pretty elf with dark hair named Lindir greeted them and Bilbo tried his best to pretend he couldn’t understand the words they exchanged, though his Sindarin had admittedly become pretty shoddy. He wasn’t sure how well you would explain a hobbit knowing Sindarin, though he was sure between them he and Gandalf could come up with something._ _ _ _ _ _

______The elfin horn sounded against and the company turned as riders of Rivendell appeared heading straight toward them. The dwarves reacted with predictable unfavorableness at that and Bilbo founded himself being pulled in to the center of the company by Bofur as they readied themselves for battle._ _ _ _ _ _

______Dwarves he thought with some exasperation. To be fair having ‘their sworn enemies’ close in around them, dressed for battle, and on tall fierce mounts didn’t help much._ _ _ _ _ _

______It was easy to spot Lord Elrond among them for even among elves he was considered beautiful and looked intimidating astride his dark horse. He greeted Gandalf like a friend and Bilbo hoped that would relax the dwarves though they shifted uncomfortably at the Sindarin that passed between the two._ _ _ _ _ _

______Thorin stepped away from the closed in company, a stormy look on his face. “Welcome Thorin, son of Thrain.” Elrond greeted. Within seconds the tension increased as Thorin insulted the elf._ _ _ _ _ _

______“What does he say?” Gloin growled stepping forward. “Does he offer us insult?” The dwarves seemed rallied by that and Bilbo half-heartedly wondered if it would come to blows._ _ _ _ _ _

______Gandalf stepped in between them. “No, Master Gloin he offers you food.”_ _ _ _ _ _

______The dwarves reacted to the elvish food about as well as Bilbo expected. He himself ate with a fierce abandon. He’d gone from eating six meals a day to two and though he would not complain about the downsize he’d stock up as much as he could while at Rivendall. Dragons were sporadic eaters at best. When their hoards were safe they’d often sleep for long stretches of time, rarely waking for food. Once he’d been used to a lifestyle like this, though not in many years._ _ _ _ _ _

______“So it is true. When I heard them speaking of a hobbit in Rivendell I knew there was only one it could be.” a feminine voice, almost like bells said and the dwarves were suddenly deathly silent._ _ _ _ _ _

______The lovely Arwen Evenstar greeted him with a sweet smile. “My lady.” He greeted with delight and surprise, he hadn’t seen her in at least thirty or forty years. “It’s been a long time.”_ _ _ _ _ _

______He could feel every single eye of the company staring at him as the dark-haired elf sat down next to him, a human child with dark hair and serious eyes following her lead._ _ _ _ _ _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so unbelievably amazed and pleased and shocked by how well received the first chapter was. You guys have stunned me and I thank you all dearly. 
> 
> 1\. I'd like to mention that Bilbo is just as dismissive of the dwarves as they are of him. This is a journey of growing past that on both sides. 
> 
> 2\. I feel like this will probably never come up in the actual story so, my headcannon is that anytime a hobbit lass or lad is whisked away on an adventure with Gandalf, our dear Bilbo is dragged along per his duties to the shire. 
> 
> 3\. Lalia Took and Fortinbras are both canon. After Fortrinbras' dies his thainship goes to his son but Lalia's a total control freak so she pretty much runs it. She dies by accidentally falling down some garden stairs, thanks to her clumsy attendant--Pippin's older sister.


	3. Of Elves and Arguments

“Indeed it has been a long time and it almost would have been longer too.” She agreed and then leaned in towards him, a look of mischief in her eyes. “I was to leave to Lothlorien three days ago. I’m glad however that I did not.” 

He blushed slightly at her words and then startled when he realized that more than one member of the company was staring at them with a mix of suspicion and curiosity. “Oh, umm I guess I should introduce you--this fair lady is Arwen Evenstar, Lord Elrond’s daughter.” he paused and glanced down at the little boy sitting next to her, surprised to find that he was staring at the dwarves with evident distrust. 

“I don’t believe we’ve met.” he said and the little boy looked at him and some of the discomfort faded from his eyes. 

The boy broke out into a grin. “I am Estel.” He paused and then glanced at Arwen once before saying somewhat quietly so that the dwarves could not hear. “Arwen’s told me all about you.” 

Bilbo raised an eyebrow at her but the elf-maiden simply stared back. He could still feel the company staring at him, tension thick in the air though he doubted that would fade anytime soon, introductions or not, and quickly introduced all the present members. 

“Mister Boggins, how do you know an elf?” Kili hissed trying to be quiet and failing horribly. Arwen’s mouth twitched in mirth, and even serious Estel looked close to laughing, and he sighed. “We’ve been friends for a very long time.” 

Arwen smiled at him and her keen eyes glanced down at the dwarves and their mostly untouched plates and she hid a frown. For whatever disputes there were between her kind and theirs, she had no desire for anyone to starve in her own home. “I can see that you are uncomfortable here, Master Dwarves. If you’d like I can find you a private place to eat, away from all this noise, where you may rest and eat food more to your liking?”

They looked at her surprised and Gloin spoke up for the group as he was prone to in matters involving the stomach. “That’d be fine, Miss Arwen.” 

Arwen nodded and stood up, her tall slender frame impressive compared to theirs. Estel looked back at Bilbo and the dwarves and then quickly stood up himself, sticking close to her side. “Bilbo would you like to join us? You can tell me how you’ve been.” 

“Go on lad, catch up with yer friend.” Bofur said, the dwarves in better spirits at the prospect of a place away from the elves and ‘real’ food. Bilbo glanced at them once last time and then caught up to Arwen and Estel. 

“I thought they had fangs.” Estel said sourly. 

Bilbo almost stumbled and Arwen reached out a hand to steady him before asking, “Why would they have fangs?”

The little boy looked uncomfortable and at last he shrugged, avoiding both their eyes and looking resolutely at the floor. Her eyes narrowed in return. “Did Elladan and Elrohir tell you a story again? Estel you know you cannot always believe what they say.”

He remembered Arwen’s older brothers; twins with hair darker than night and slate grey eyes. They had grim personalities which only became worse after their mother, Celebrian was attacked and tortured by orcs, she left for the west within the year and they still bore an understandable grudge against the creatures. 

Clearly they’d lightened up since the last time he saw, if they were telling little Estel such tall tales. 

Estel still looked embarrassed and Arwen almost exasperated, so Bilbo quickly stepped in, attempting to spare the poor lad more of her scolding. “Estel, those dwarves out there are probably some of the friendliest, nicest, fangless people I’ve ever met. Bilbo said with such an air of absolute conviction that even Arwen looked at him with interest. 

“Yeah?” Estel said with wide eyes though still distrusting, his foster brothers’ story running through his mind.

He nodded, a smirk coming over his face. “I’ve seen tougher rabbits then that lot out there. Faster too.” 

Estel looked at him with complete curiosity then. “Really?” 

“Oh, completely. They have the best stories too. I bet better than even Elladan and Elrohir.” Estel looked even more ecstatic at that and he looked up at Arwen with pleading eyes. 

She laughed, the sound of it prettier than any he’d ever heard. “Go on then. I can see there will be no stopping you.” Estel crowed in joy and leaned over to hug her before running back down the hall. 

“He’s new.” The boy looked little more than ten though he often had trouble guessing the ages of any thing more than a hobbit. He didn’t dare try to guess how old the dwarves were. 

She hummed in reply as they wandered closer to the kitchen. “My father’s ward. He’s sweet though entirely too trusting of any word my brothers say.” 

Bilbo laughed at that. “Take it as a compliment to how great of stories tellers you and your kin are.” They came to the kitchens then and Arwen slipped inside and he could hear hushed Sindarin and he waited patiently, watching as various elves walked back and forth, only a few glancing at him. 

“Your dwarves will have their food shortly.” Arwen said the instant she came out and he frowned, looking her over. 

“That’s very kind of you, and I’m sure they’ll appreciate it, but we both know you wanted more than company when you asked me down here.” Bilbo said knowingly and the elf-maiden did not so much as blush or look guilty. 

“I felt there was something important I needed to inform you of.” She said lightly and then her expression looked concerned. “Curunir is here, along with my Grandmother Galadriel, they seek counsel with Mithrandir and my father.”

He felt something in him freeze at her words, kindly spoken as they were, and it took everything he had to shrug it off. “Where Saruman the White goes and for what purpose doesn’t concern me.” 

Arwen’s hand, smooth as silk, reached down to touch his shoulder gently and he could not contain the flinch. “I know you are afraid of him, my friend.” She said quietly, no judgment in her voice. “I know you always have been.” 

“Can you blame me?” Bilbo said wryly and then shook his head, leaning closer into her touch, trying to let it calm him down. “What do you suggest I do?” 

“I suggest doing nothing. Your company seems ready to leave and I do not think Thorin Oakenshield will want to remain around long after he’s gotten whatever he needs.” Arwen’s hand tightened on his shoulder for a moment and then the touch was gone and he still felt icy-cold. “I was concerned and I thought you needed to know. I don’t know if they’re aware you’re here.” 

He tried to smile at her but it was strained. “Thank you, my lady.”

Arwen allowed him one more moment of silence to calm his visible nerves and then suggested gently that they should head back. “Besides, if we leave Estel to it then he’ll drive your company mad.”

The company was already in a different area then the elves and true to her word Estel was there as well, listening eagerly as Fili and Kili told him story after story, cutting in occasionally to ask a question with wide eyes and open ears. 

“I feel that may be worse than him listening to Elladan and Elrohir.” Bilbo told her dryly and she laughed. “I have business to attend to. If it pleases you, do you think you could bring Estel back when he’s done?”

Bilbo swore he would and when she left sat down by Bofur figuring the friendly dwarf would be the least curious. “So, you know a lot of elves then?” Bofur said a few moments after he’d sat down. 

“Only the few.” Bilbo said and though he wasn’t much in the mood for questions, not after what Arwen had told him, he was glad the dwarves seemed more relaxed. “I met them through Gandalf of course.” 

Bofur laughed at that. “Aye, I bet you meet a lot of strange folks through wizards.” He frowned suddenly, looking over at the hobbit and noticing how pale his skin looked, how he glanced around every now and then. “Ye alright, lad?” He’d been fine earlier, happier than he’d been on any other part of the journey so far the second he saw that elf. 

His head snapped up startled and his eyes widened for a moment before a small smile came over his face and he shook it off by saying he was just tired. “I’m still not entirely used to this.” He admitted quietly and Bofur relaxed, smiling back at him. 

“Don’t worry. Ye’ll get better at it, ye’ve been improving since the start.” 

His smile turned wry at that and he laughed. “I doubt you speak the truth but I appreciate it none the less.”

Sometime passed and Bilbo started to relax, drawn into the conversation slowly by Bofur and the others. Thorin and Balin were still not back yet but since the rest of the company didn’t appear concerned he decided he wouldn’t be either. 

“Bilbo?” Estel appeared in front of the hobbit, looking dead on his feet, swaying slightly. 

“Are you ready to go?” At his nod, he stood and told the dwarves he’d be back shortly. Bilbo was mostly supporting Estel throughout the slow walk to Arwen’s chambers, the little boy leaning on his shoulder and Bilbo tried not to be offended that he was almost taller than him. 

“Arwen told me about you, you know.” Estel said and then let out a yawn, blinking his eyes in a vain effort to appear more awake. 

“Did she now?”

Estel nodded. “Mhmm, well--Elladan and Elrohir told me first but I didn’t believe them but Arwen said that this time it was true.” His words started to slur together but were mostly understandable. “Can you fly still? Do you have a cave full of treasure? Elladan said you lived in a cave. Can you breathe fire still? Can you turn into a dragon still?”

 

Bilbo laughed suddenly and loud, his voice echoing through the empty hall. Though he would not usually be in the mood for such personal questions he was glad of it now when the thought of Saruman the White still hung in his mind. “I can’t fly, not anymore. I don’t have a cave full of treasure, I don’t even live in a cave. And I suppose I can still ‘breath’ fire though it’s not so much of breathing anymore.”

Estel looked at him through half-open eyes. “Really? What is it then?”

Bilbo looked around the hallway and seeing that it was completely empty, he gently moved the boy away. “Perhaps it’s easier if I show you?” Estel’s eyes opened fully at his words and he looked at him eagerly. 

With one last check to see that the coast was clear Bilbo held out his palms and pulled as much heat as he could forth, until there were two tiny flames in the center of them. It wasn’t much, especially in contrast to what he’d once been able to do but Estel watched him excitedly, overjoyed. 

He wasn’t sure why some traits remained while others had left. He could no longer fly, no longer looked like he once was but still he felt the call of greed and gold, still he could pull flames, however small, from his skin. It wasn’t the same but often on the loneliest of nights at the worst of it, it brought him comfort knowing that some things from his past were still with him. 

“That’s amazing!” Estel said loudly and then his eyes widened and he looked around hurriedly. “Can you do anything else?”

Bilbo smiled at him. “That’s for another time, my small friend. I believe our lady is waiting for us.”

Estel nodded, face serious again though Bilbo had a feeling most of the seriousness he’d seen was simply an attempt at being seen as more mature. “Right. We shouldn’t keep her waiting.”

Arwen looked at them fondly when they arrived and Estel stepped into her room, almost swaying on his feet. “Stay safe, dear Bilbo. The world is becoming more dangerous and I fear where this journey may lead you.” She said in a hushed tone as he left and Bilbo took her words to heart, swearing to her that he’d be fine and he would visit on his return home to prove it. 

He was heading back when something touched his shoulder and Bilbo yelped in surprise, turning around to find Thorin of all people. “What is the matter with you?” He hissed out. “Is this a thing with you? Skulking about and scaring people?”

Thorin looked almost apologetic. “I meant you no harm hobbit. I only came to tell you the company is leaving.”  
“Good.” Bilbo muttered quietly, his mind once again focused on Saruman. Though he loved Rivendell and its inhabitants, he knew it would be best if they left quickly. 

Thorin raised an eyebrow. “You don’t wish to stay with your elf friends any longer?” The word ‘elf’ was said with an especially vicious tone and Bilbo resisted rolling his eyes. 

“Do you have a problem in my friendship with them?” He asked instead, trying to keep his tone polite. The elves of Rivendell were considered among his closest friends. They had sheltered him after his changing, fed him, clothed him, gave him a name when he’d refused his old one. 

“I have a problem with _elves _.” Thorin said shortly and at that understatement Bilbo did laugh, quiet as it was.__

__Thorin stared at him with such fierce heat in his eyes that Bilbo could do nothing but wince and hope that he had not made the leader of their company dismiss him even further with so small a careless action. “I meant no offense Master Dwarf, I know of your feud with the elves, especially those of the woodland realm.”_ _

__“But?”_ _

__Bilbo hesitated and then decided he would not lie, not even to save himself from Thorin’s wrath or dislike. “Your expectation of this journey is to reclaim Erebor and you will be its King. Your city will be weak and your people weary, especially at the beginning. I don’t think it’d harm you to be nicer to the elves who live so close to your borders.”_ _

__It was the wrong choice of words and he knew it the second he said it but he could not take it back and the dark look on Thorin’s face deepened and he scowled, “Those elves abandoned my people the day Smaug attacked, they watched our city burn and then left without a word. I will not show kindness to those who have betrayed us and if you think I should then you are more of a fool then I thought.”_ _

__He flinched at the words but stood his ground._ _

__“Then Erebor will fail.” He said simply. “You cannot survive alone, not at the beginning.”_ _

__Thorin scoffed, “What would you know of such things? A halfling who’s never worked a day in his life, has never suffered and endured horrors beyond what you can imagine, safe with your books and soft bed.” His voice was rough and full of scorn and it made something in Bilbo’s blood burn with dragon fire, he’d meant to hold his tongue but instead he let go of politeness._ _

__Bilbo frowned at the slur and then shook his head, start to walking back down the hallway. “I’m no king, your majesty, as such I’m sure I’d have no insight in your pressing matters, but at least I’m not fool enough to presume I know people from the glimpses they show. I didn’t have to come here. I have no ties to you or your kin. There is _nothing _I desire at the end of this quest.”___ _

____The second he said it, he almost wished he could take it back. He’d said the words in anger but that didn’t make them less true. Thorin Oakenshield was stubborn and clung to his opinions and he feared that his pride would harm him one day, maybe even get him killed._ _ _ _

____Thorin brushed past him, hands balled into fists and anger evident from the tip of his tightly held head to his stance. Bilbo let him and followed after at a slower pace, little desire to be close to the dwarf after that. The company was already packed up and waiting and surprisingly Bofur had packed up his things._ _ _ _

____Bilbo took them with a small smile thought it fell away quickly. “Thank you.”_ _ _ _

____Bofur waved a hand, “It’s fine lad. Are ye alright? Ye look troubled.”_ _ _ _

____He was unable to help his glance at the front of the company, where he knew Thorin would be. The dwarf king did not so much as look back in his direction once. Bilbo gritted his teeth and pushed away the weird feeling in his stomach, an almost anxiety that he could not fathom the reason for. What did he care what Thorin Oakenshield thought of him?_ _ _ _

____“I’m perfectly fine.” He said at last and then they slipped out of the Last Homely House without another word._ _ _ _

____Stone Giants he thought with some degree of disbelief and the vague thought of mentioning it to Estel on his trip back. The harsh rain was beating down on them, making the ground slick and he struggled with keeping on the path. Of course there would be moving rocks._ _ _ _

____Bilbo’s foot slipped, his grip looser than usual as he was the only member of the company who did not wear thick boots, and he was only saved from falling by Dwalin’s quick grab. Bilbo sent him a grateful look and the dwarf nodded, opening his mouth to speak when they were cut off by half of their party being separated._ _ _ _

____The giant moved and Bilbo clung to it as tightly as possible, unable to even scream as they moved. Every second he expected them to fall and yet somehow they all hung on until at last they were sent crashing into the side of the mountain. Luck was with them for they all landed on the rock and he thought he could hear someone screaming over the rain and thunder._ _ _ _

____It was only when the stone giant fell away that he realized he wasn’t on the path at all but hanging precariously off of. The company rushed past them and he wanted to say something but he was once again frozen by fear. He expected to die, falling from the sky for a second time when he heard someone ask where he was._ _ _ _

____They couldn’t reach him and he closed his eyes, heart still and painful--until someone’s hand wrapped around his and heat bloomed through his skin and he looked up to find Thorin. He hoisted the hobbit up and Bilbo happily got acquainted with blessed ground._ _ _ _

____“I thought we lost our burglar.” Dwalin admitted, half out of breath from pulling Thorin up._ _ _ _

____Thorin frowned turning to stare at him and despite the rain, the thunder, and everyone’s questions happening all at once, he heard his words clearly. He heard Thorin say he was lost, say he should have never come, say he had no place among them._ _ _ _

____The words might have chilled him more than the rain and he gladly went into the caves, feeling for what he thought was the first time a completely human cold, prodded along by Bofur. The rest of the company, tired and exhausted, fell asleep with an ease Bilbo envied as no sleep came for him. His mind was haunted by Thorin’s words and his own doubts, pushed along by the thought of Saruman._ _ _ _

____He’d had his doubts from the very moment he left the Shire. He wasn’t fit for this that much had been proven already and Thorin had only confirmed it._ _ _ _

____Bilbo packed quickly, still feeling numb and cold, and he crept quietly with a skill of his own, almost away until Bofur noticed him._ _ _ _

____“Where do ye think yer going?” Bofur said in alarm and he paused, a regretful look on his face. If he couldn’t be thankful of much of what this adventure had provided then he was thankful he’d gotten to know Bofur. The dwarf had been nothing but kind and helpful, cheering him up with his terrible jokes and positive demeanor._ _ _ _

____“Back to Rivendell and then the Shire.” Bilbo said in just as quiet a voice._ _ _ _

____Bofur shook his head, getting up from his perch. “No, no. you can’t go--you’re a part of the company now. You’re one of us.”_ _ _ _

____He shrugged. “Thorin said I should have never come and he was right. I don’t belong here.”_ _ _ _

____“You’re homesick, I understand--” Bofur said somewhat desperately but Bilbo cut him off. “No, you don’t. You’re dwarves! You’re used to this, used to this life. Never belonging anywhere.”_ _ _ _

____If there were any words he could have taken back then those would have been his choice. He’d said it badly without thought and he regretted them instantly. At the time he thought it hadn’t been the same kind of homesickness and he’d reacted badly, stressed and anxious as he was. He’d foolishly thought that they wouldn’t understand. He’d lost his home and he’d been forced to find a new one. How could they understand that? Seeing the look of hurt and resigned acceptance cross over his friend’s face had made him realize how wrong he was._ _ _ _

____Bilbo had tried to apologize and Bofur had brushed it off before asking about the strange glow on his sword. He looked down at it and tried to remember what Gandalf had said as a strange noise echoed through the cavern._ _ _ _

____“Wake up!” Thorin barked and that was all he had time to say as the ground disappeared and the company fell with it. Somehow the goblins didn’t notice him as they swarmed around the dwarves and Bilbo crouched down watching them with wide eyes. A goblin jumped down from somewhere as he tried to follow after and Bilbo fought, swinging the sword with all his might and hoping that he actually hit something. Then they fell, both of them tumbling down and down into the darkness._ _ _ _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My awe is continuing at how much you guys like this! 
> 
> 1\. Estel is about ten years old here and isn't aware of his 'destiny' for another ten or so. 
> 
> 2\. I have the feeling that if Gloin had ever meet an elf like Arwen or Galadriel he'd be just as swoony as his son. 
> 
> 3\. (I'm going to have to re-read the book soon to remember what comes next)


	4. Of the Ring

He woke up in darkness with a fierce ache in his back and a strange hissing sound in his ears. When he could focus long enough he thought he could smell blood in the air; sharp and fresh. With no small amount of effort he tried to get up, getting shakily to his knees and almost falling down. 

That task finished he tried to remember what had happened. He had fallen, he could remember that much, could remember the long agonizing trip into blackness. But what had happened before that? Where were the others-- “Thorin!” Bilbo breathed out in horrified realization, everything rushing back to him. Thorin and the others had been captured. He needed to get out of here, needed to figure out a way to rescue them from those disgusting creatures. 

The strange hissing grew louder and Bilbo realized that it was actually very close to him, quickly he hid, trying to stay as quiet as possible as it only got louder and nearer. The gaunt looking creature was unlike any he’d ever seen in his long life. It looked like a mix between a man, a hobbit, and death itself and instantly he was revolted by it, wanted to be as far away from it as possible. His disgust only grew as he realized it was dragging something vaguely human like (the goblin from earlier?) along with it, a trail of blood following. The creature pulled the body over a tall pile of rubble and in the process something fell away from the scrap of cloth he wore. Bilbo wouldn’t have even noticed if it hadn’t made a strange ting sound as it fell, landing a few feet away from where he was hiding. 

Later he would often think about why he hadn’t realized it was treasure from the second it fell even though in the past he’d been able to find gold without a thought. Later he would wonder if it had been the ring itself preventing him from realizing what it was until he stepped in to see. 

Until it had been too late. 

Now though Bilbo crept slowly out of his hiding place, a dragon’s curiosity aiding him as he moved closer until at last he found it; it wasn’t the most impressive jewel he’d found. It was only a ring, faded gold. But it was somehow special, wasn’t it? He could see that now, looking at it again. The gold shown brighter like the light of fire and a hoard of treasure, the light of the Shire’s bonfires. It was a light in the darkness of the cave, a calming presence, and he knew he had to have it. 

It didn’t matter that he didn’t like treasure, didn’t matter that he stayed away from gold. What would one little trinket hurt? One little ring? He deserved it. Trapped for years in that crummy little place with simple people, trapped in this tiny little form. He deserved it. It was his. Why shouldn’t he keep it? 

It was special, his treasure, his precious. 

His. 

He curled his hands around it and the warmth of the precious thing reminded him of dragon fire, the heat of his kin and surely that was a sign it was meant for him. All his. 

He could be powerful with his. He didn’t know how he knew that but the instant he thought it he knew it was the only truth. If he put it on he could be powerful again, strong once more, could show those brutes of dwarves his worth, show them who was their better. Could show that smug dwarf king what it meant to be in control, he could make him bleed, make him scream--

Wait.

Bilbo frowned staring down at the ring. When had he picked it up? Why had he picked it up? A strange feeling came over him even as he looked on with hazy eyes, eyes that were as gold as the precious thing in his hand. The scent of gold and greed came over him, a dark rush of power and strength and the way the air felt before first blood was struck. 

It had never felt like this before. There was nothing in all the realms that had ever felt this right. 

Wait. 

Suddenly he knew what the strange feeling was then, the one he had been barely able to notice under the siren call of gold. 

Fear. 

No. He didn’t want this. He didn’t want power or gold. He loved the shire, loved its hills and streams and the people he protected. He didn’t feel trapped. Why had he thought such horrible things about the company? Oh, why had he thought such horrible terrible things about Thorin? 

Why had he picked it up? Why was he still holding it? Why hadn’t he let it go already? “No.” Bilbo said out loud, trying to will his hand to drop the ring. All he had to do was open his hand and it would fall and this would be over. 

Let it go he thought desperately, why couldn’t he let it go? 

Let go. Let go. Let go! 

The precious dropped from his hand and he jumped back like he’d been burned. Sweat dripped down his face and he gasped for air, feeling more weak then he had in years. 

“No.” Bilbo repeated hollowly, throat parched and broken, and he had to find his way out of here. He had to find the company and leave, get as far away from that vile thing--that beautiful treasure. 

He could still feel the fear, could feel that he was shaking now with his heart beating too fast and too loud and he clung to that. Fear was good. 

Carefully because he did not want to get too close to that evil precious thing he dug a shallow hole, moving away as many rocks as he could. Bilbo drew his sword and nudged it into the hole and then with a mind blank of anything but fear he buried that horrible thing, with the smell of blood in the air. With one last effort he held out his hands and pulled as much heat as he could, trying to melt the rocks or at least harden them, had his flames always been that bright, that hot? Or was this the ring’s doing? 

It wasn’t enough. 

He could still feel it trying to pull him in, and he knew it wasn’t just the call of gold that had made him lose control. It was the ring. It was bad, it wanted him to pick it up, it wanted to leave and it wanted him and he didn’t know why but it scared him and he knew he had to leave now or he’d dig it up.

It felt agonizing walking away from the precious thing, it felt like swords stabbing into him and he could hear it calling for him, thought he heard it whisper his name. Not Bilbo, but his old one, his first one, his true one. 

Bilbo broke into a run and thought only of the company, of Gandalf and the shire, thought of Thorin--

He heard a hiss and he froze and then as if out of nowhere the creature from before appeared. 

“What is it, precious? What is it?” It said, staring at him with its large eyes. 

The creature, Gollum it seemed knew the way out. Unfortunately they were at an impasse of Bilbo not wanting to be dinner and Gollum wanting a meal. Somehow Bilbo had bargained himself a game of riddles and though he had not meant to, it was certainly better than being eaten and though he had not meant to he could barely hide his smug smirk When dragons did not harvest gold or gems, they treasured riddles and games and stories. He felt victory was certain. 

Gollum surprisingly was good at riddles for such an pitiful creature and Bilbo was at a loss trying to think of his last question as he eyed him with increasing interest. 

“Well?” It hissed out, looking about for a rock no doubt to bash his head in with and Bilbo paused a riddle coming to him quickly, a riddle he knew Gollum could not solve. 

“I fear no flame or open sky, I sleep in gold, from my hand elves and men come to die.” Bilbo Baggins grinned, teeth sharp and menacing. “What am _I _?”__

__Gollum protested, even demanded a different question and Bilbo even allowed him three guesses. When he got them all wrong, he demanded that the creature show him the way out, he was getting worried now, his mind focusing only on the horrible possibilities that he could see. Gollum shrieked and screamed, and then screamed more when he tried to grab something and it wasn’t there._ _

__“Where is it? Where is it precious?” Gollum screeched, moving rocks, searching in the shallow water and Bilbo started to move away. He would be of no help now._ _

__“You took it, Baggins took it!”_ _

__It chased him then or at least tried to; Bilbo was faster and clever and he ended up hiding out of sight and when the creature went passed he followed after it, hoping it would lead him to the exit. A strange smell filled the air and it took him a minute to realize that it almost smelt familiar like earth and stone, right as the company ran past with none other than Gandalf leading._ _

__Bilbo could barely believe it. He’d feared the worst and it seemed that luck was with them, Gandalf had saved them again and he took back every remotely negative thing he’d ever thought about the wizard (at least for now.) With a grin on his face Bilbo moved back and then with a running leap jumped over Gollum so quick that the gaunt creature hadn’t even realized what happened._ _

__Then he was out and the feel of the cool air on his too hot skin calmed him, fear fading away into a relief so strong it almost struck him down. From what he’d seen all of the company was alive, Gandalf was back, and he’d gotten away from that poisonous ring. It would be alright now. It had to be._ _

__“Where is our hobbit?” Gandalf said, voice grave. “Where is Bilbo?”_ _

__“Master Baggins saw his chance and he took it.” Thorin’s voice sounded odd and he tried to figure it out but he figured it must have been the leftover adrenaline or maybe the bits of greed still rattling around in his head that had made him hear such strange things. “We will not be seeing our hobbit again.”_ _

__“Actually.” Bilbo said stepping out from behind the tree-line, limping slowly. The pain in his back had increased but he didn’t dare mention it at a time like this. Not when they were still at risk of harm. “I’m right here.”_ _

__“Bilbo Baggins, I have never been so glad to see someone in all my life.” An overjoyed look passed over Gandalf’s face though his eyes lingered on the signs of duress he could easily see. Something had changed about him and the wizard knew they would have a conversation later._ _

__Bilbo smiled at him. “Funny, I was about to say the same thing.”_ _

__“Why did you return?”_ _

__Gandalf frowned. “Is now the time for such things?” Bilbo looked half ready to fall over and the rest of the company faired little better, some had left the goblins unscathed though most had not._ _

__Thorin stepped forward and Bilbo found himself staring into piercing eyes though for once there was no dislike that he could see, no sign of what Thorin thought of him. “Because I shouldn’t have tried to leave in the first place. I know you doubt me and I don’t blame you for it. I’m not a warrior or a fighter. Certainly not a hero. But I made a promise to help you reclaim Erebor. I do often think of the shire because it’s my home, a place to call my own, and that’s why I want to help.”_ _

__He shrugged looking away from those eyes before he found himself caught in them again. “Your home was taken from you, by a monster and I’d like to help you take it back. If I can.”_ _

__Bilbo didn’t know where the words had come from, didn’t even know he was going to say them until they had been said. He didn’t know if it came up from the guilt of what one of his kin had done or because of his feelings for Thorin. All he knew was that he meant them._ _

__The look on Thorin’s face changed and he looked more different than Bilbo had ever seen him , no longer a fierce king or an arrogant dwarf but just a person._ _

__Warg howls cut through the air and the company startled into action. “Run!” Gandalf commanded in that wizarding voice of his and for once Bilbo listened, running as fast as he could but being delayed by the pain in his back and he stumbled, barely catching himself._ _

__By then a warg had appeared right in front of him and on instinct Bilbo flinched and held out his hands as it charged at him, surprised to see it fall to the ground with burn marks on its head. He looked at it for a moment longer and then followed the others to the trees. He almost could make it because of his leg but a hand reached down to roughly pull him up. Thorin almost rolled his eyes at him and he smiled in thanks._ _

__“Do we have a plan for this?” He could hear someone--Bofur say from a different branch, the panic evident in his voice._ _

__Thorin made a sound low and hissed out that might have been a word and Bilbo looked at him in concern but the dwarf king’s wide eyes were on some distant point. “Thorin?”_ _

__“It cannot be.” Thorin sounded as if he’d seen a ghost, voice stuck in some agonizing pain and Bilbo wanted to say more, wanted to ask what was wrong but the wargs swarmed the tree threatening to knock it over and Bilbo had to jump to the next one or risk falling. He hissed in pain but it couldn’t be helped, they had to keep moving until the dwarves were all in one tree. All trapped._ _

__Salvation came in the form of a small ball of light being hurled to the ground and catching it on fire, temporarily scaring the wargs away. It took him a moment to realize they weren’t balls of light but pinecones being light on fire and he almost smiled at the genius of it. That crazy old wizard._ _

__Bilbo didn’t look, didn’t care as he grabbed pinecones and lit them quickly, throwing as many to the ground as he could, watching the wargs move away yelping in fright. In that moment he didn’t notice someone observing him. In that moment there was nothing but the fire and the wargs._ _

__The tree cracked under the strain of their combined weight and with a shudder it fell, barely hanging off the side of the cliff. He could hear screaming below him but it was the sounds above him that caught his attention and he looked up in time to see Thorin launch himself off the branch and towards what could only be the source of Thorin’s discomfort, Azog the defiler._ _

__“You fool.” Bilbo breathed out in one horrified moment, unable to take his eyes off the fight. Thorin charged and the white warg pounced, tackling him to the ground like he was nothing. For one moment Bilbo thought Thorin wouldn’t get up at all but he struggled to his feet and the awful fight continued on._ _

__The Pale orc struck and the moment of it hitting Thorin, the moment of Thorin falling and not getting back up lasted for centuries or it seemed to. “No!” He could hear someone screech and he thought it was Dwalin or maybe Balin but it was dim and distant and he could barely hear it over the roar in his ears, the burn in his veins._ _

__Bilbo didn’t think, some strange instinct overtaking his mind and he let it, he pulled himself up all the way and charged, his sight red, fire-red. The warg bit Thorin, snuck its terrible fangs into him and pulled and he could hear more screaming._ _

__It flung Thorin away like he was nothing, like he wasn’t Thorin but some piece of trash or dirt._ _

__He pulled out his sword but he didn’t think he’d need it. The fire-red was growing and he could feel it pushing at the edges of his skin and as a different orc approached Thorin with a long thin blade he just reacted._ _

__Bilbo tackled into him and he heard the orc shriek, fire blistering at his skin and he pulled out his sword as the orc tried to gain the advantage back but it was too late and Bilbo lifted his sword up and slammed it down into his chest. It was the first time he’d killed something in ages, centuries maybe and it didn’t feel different. Didn’t feel like anything but victory once more._ _

__He was in front of Azog then and he could the fire-red disappearing and he held his sword in front of him. If they tried to touch Thorin he’d kill them where they stood. He’d tear Azog to pieces if he could._ _

__He heard battle cries and he glanced over to see that some of the company had climbed off the trees and were attacking the orcs in return. Bilbo hit one with his sword and turned attempting to dodge a blow but stumbling into the white warg, without a conscious thought he let his hands heat up again and the warg snarled bucking him off. He fell, sword following away and the warg and its rider moved closer._ _

__Bilbo could hear himself gasping but it was not out of fear but the way his lungs felt; they were on fire, heat scorching up them and he couldn’t do anything. He looked into the eyes of the pale orc and he swore that he wouldn’t die by his hands or blade. He’d set what remained of the forest on fire if he had to._ _

___I’ll kill you _he thought and almost imagined blood-stained teeth, claws sunk into orc hide.__ _ _

____There was a shrill screech and then a giant bird unlike any other he’d seen before appeared. He could only watch stunned as they either attacked the orcs or picked up the members of the company, against the protest of his chest he tried to stand as one of them picked up Thorin, afraid they would only hurt the unconscious dwarf more. Before he could do anything he was being lifted into the air and then suddenly dropped._ _ _ _

____Feathers greeted him and he clung to them slowly relaxing at the feel of familiar air and flying. Bilbo closed his eyes and embraced it, trying to memorize the feel of it. He knew he’d never do so again and it was worth it despite the pain._ _ _ _

____It was like coming home for the first time in a very long time._ _ _ _

____The birds flew into daylight and now that the fire-red had faded he felt only tired. He couldn’t stop himself from glancing at Thorin, worry clawing at him. The dwarf still had not woken up._ _ _ _

____He didn’t know where they were but the valley around them was green like his shire and it felt safe and the great birds dropped them gently on stone._ _ _ _

____Gandalf was already by Thorin’s side when his bird finally landed and Bilbo moved forward a step, and then one more and hesitated. If even Gandalf could do nothing--Thorin’s eyes opened and he said something but Bilbo couldn’t hear it. He didn’t even care, he was so relieved, so happy that Thorin was alive. They were all alive. Somehow._ _ _ _

____Thorin struggled to his feet, being supported by his kin and Bilbo felt himself frozen in place unmoving. The dwarf king looked at him, blood on his face and wounded still and Bilbo feared the worst as those compelling eyes looked at him. Thorin knew, he’d seen him burn the orc._ _ _ _

____“You.” He gasped out and there was still some ragged quality to his voice. “What were you doing?” The company was silent as they watched their king and their burglar._ _ _ _

____Bilbo opened his mouth to speak, to beg, to offer some plea of his life, of an explanation and Thorin continued. “You nearly got yourself killed.”_ _ _ _

____“Did I not say that you would be a burden? That you would not survive in the wild?” His voice was low and rough as he moved closer, some emotion captured in it but Bilbo didn’t know him well enough to know what it was. “That you had no place among us?”_ _ _ _

____Too close. He was too close and Bilbo could feel himself burning up. He was on fire from Thorin’s words and his looks, from the things he could not understand. Why didn’t anyone see it? Why didn’t they put him out?_ _ _ _

____Thorin moved closer and he could feel that burn in the pit of his stomach, in the cavity of his chest but it didn’t hurt this time. There was no gasping for breath, no ash in his lungs and he found he could not say anything at all._ _ _ _

____“I’ve never been so wrong in all my life.”_ _ _ _

____Strong arms encircled him and pulled him against Thorin’s chest. Bilbo let out a tiny breath and didn’t care. The embrace, the way Thorin’s arms felt around him felt right. It felt more than flying._ _ _ _

____The company cheered; they were alive, they were safe._ _ _ _

____Bilbo didn’t care, he just let himself be thrown in the fire with open airs and heart._ _ _ _

____“I am sorry I doubted you.” He sounded truly regretful and Bilbo shook his head._ _ _ _

____“I would have doubted me too.” Bilbo paused, a dragon’s pride wavering in a hobbit’s body. Well then. What did pride matter compared to this? “I’m sorry for the words I said at Rivendell, they were too harsh.”_ _ _ _

____Thorin said nothing but his eyes were still soft and there was no grudge in them. His gaze filtered upwards and they widened in surprise. Bilbo turned around and saw it._ _ _ _

____“Erebor.” Gandalf confirmed. “The lonely mountain. The last of the great dwarven kingdoms.”_ _ _ _

____In the distance over a span stretching miles and through misty air there lay a mountain. To him it was just some distant peak but in their eyes he could see the call of home, could see their own fires._ _ _ _

____“Our home.” Thorin breathed out and Bilbo glanced at him. He’d never looked happier, never looked more wistful and yet young then he did staring at that faraway place._ _ _ _

____Bilbo smiled._ _ _ _

____He’d made the right choice._ _ _ _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for continuing kudos/comments/favorites/general liking of this story. I'm so glad people seem to like it. 
> 
> 1\. I've been kind of frustrated because I feel I'm sticking too closely with the plot of the movie, to be fair the only major change is that Bilbo is a dragon and that's a secret. I think I'll feel better about it after this chapter because I won't have the movie as a resource and it'll feel more unique. 
> 
> If anyone can offer any thoughts or suggestions to what I can do to help improve on making this more original then please feel free to speak up ^__^ I like hearing what you guys think.


	5. Of Beorn's halls

Gandalf’s friend lives a week away and the company is sullen at the prospect but it’s the safest option. In total at least half of them are wounded in someway or another with Thorin’s shoulder and chest being the worse. 

They are sluggish and weak and the prospect of being attacked and unable to defended themselves weighs heavily on everyone’s mind though Fili and Kili try to lighten the mood. 

It takes him two days to get the chance to talk to Gandalf about the ring. He’d like to pretend it’s not because of how ashamed he feels. 

He waits until everyone is asleep and spends the entire day wallowing in his nerves. He doesn’t think Gandalf will judge him too badly but the thought of disappointing the wizard is terrifying to an almost physical pain. 

He owes Gandalf his life. He doesn’t want him to think it was a waste. 

Everyone notices; Balin frowns at him and looks like he’s going to speak up every now and then but doesn’t. Dori does in fact ask him if he’s alright and Bilbo spends fifteen minutes reassuring him that he’s fine really, just tired. Fili and Kili try to draw him into a conversation about hobbits but stop after the fifth attempt. Even Thorin looks concerned when he’s not busy being coddled by the company or grimacing in pain at Oin’s treatments. Thorin’s concern is somehow the most damning. 

Gandalf sits by the fire, smoking curling out from his pipe and he casually makes shapes of them as he looks out into the distant night with a some faraway expression on his face. He’d never been able to understand what the wizard was thinking and at the beginning that had made him only more wary. This strange man who looked like he held the weight of the realm in his hands and the stars and the skies in his old eyes. 

It had terrified him. 

“I need to talk to you about something.” Bilbo says quietly trying not to wake anyone up. The company has been treating him different since the run in with Azog. Jumping in to save Thorin had proven something to them or shown them something he’d been lacking before and they’d reacted in kind. They treat him better. They treat him like he belongs and he doesn’t want to lose that just yet. 

Gandalf’s expression comes back to the world and he smiles slightly though it doesn’t reach his eyes. “Of course, my dear Bilbo.” 

“You don’t seem surprised.” He points out wryly, a poor distraction at best. 

“You’ve been looking haunted since the moment you stepped out of that cave Bilbo Baggins.” His eyes are grim and the smoke shapes twist into solemn figures--a pack of dwarves, a tall man, and lastly a hobbit. “It is a look I thought you’d done away with long ago.”

Bilbo stares at the fire because it is easier then looking at his friend and telling him he’s a greedy monster. The fire crackles and it’s the only sound he can hear. It used to comfort him and it still should but the sound of the company breathing, live and whole is better. 

“Bilbo.” A wizened hand touches his shoulder and he keep staring straight ahead. “Tell me please.” 

Because he can deny Gandalf nothing, not even his blasted adventures it seems, he does. He tells him everything in hushed whispers and he pauses more often then he should, lost in his disappointment and anger and above all his shame. Gandalf says nothing, his face growing more pensive as Bilbo continues his tale. 

“I’m so sorry.” Bilbo says at last and his interest in the fire has increased until it’s the only thing keeping him from fleeing. 

Gandalf pauses and the dark look that’s come over him has stopped for the moment. “Sorry? Whatever for?”

Bilbo looks incredulous, outrage wrapping inside him. “I let it get a hold of me! I thought such terrible, beastly things about the company and I was only touching it. How can I not be sorry? I acted like a raving, greedy fool.” It didn’t matter that the company hadn’t seen it, in that moment his thoughts had been true and he knows what he would have done if they had been there. 

“Bilbo Baggins.” It’s the wizard voice again and for once it compels him to look up and he does, staring at the wizard with hesitant eyes. “You are one of the best men I know. If I am right then you’ve shown more strength then most for resisting the influence that ring wields.”

“Gandalf?”

Gandalf looks into the fire and for the first time that Bilbo has ever seen he looks afraid. The thought strikes fear into Bilbo as well. He doesn’t know of much that can make the maiar afraid. “You fought with evil once but I doubt you know of why or the weapons they used that went beyond dark creatures. There were certain…items made by the hands of evil and controlled by those hands. They were gifted to the leaders of other races and they sought to influence them. To rule them.”

“You think the ring from the cave is one of those items?” Bilbo thinks of the way the ring had been calling to him and he thinks of how hard it had been to resist. 

“Yes. I believe so though I cannot be certain.” Despite his grim words his reply sounds certain enough and he shudders, whispers from the cave curling in his ears. 

Gandalf stands then, tall and strong, and blows out his pipe and the last of the shapes, a dragon, fades away into the smoke of the fire. “Do not let yourself be troubled by this now. Your journey lies with this company and if anything is to be dealt with the ring it won’t be anytime soon.”

Bilbo nods, feeling impossibly cold despite the fire and the warm weather. “Gandalf? What would it have done to me if I had listened?” 

“It’s best you not know.” Gandalf doesn’t turn back to him and Bilbo shudders again. He stays by the fire for the rest of the night even when his watch ends and Nori takes over. 

In the end Bilbo’s not entirely sure how they manage to get to Beorn’s house in five days instead of seven. He’d put it down to divine intervention or of course, the will of a wizard. Gandalf takes over leading the company and stubbornly doesn’t let up no matter what anyone says. 

“He’s worse than Uncle!” Kili complains, later that night. 

“I never thought that would be possible.” Fili adds, looking just as forlorn as his brother. 

If pressed Bilbo would point out that neither say these things in either Gandalf or Thorin’s presence. 

They’ve stopped for the day and by tomorrow afternoon they’ll reach Beorn’s lands. Bilbo waits till all the others are asleep and he wanders over to where Gandalf lies, absently thinking that he’s developing a pattern of this. “You’re leaving, aren’t you?” Bilbo says bluntly and the wizard nods. 

“Is this because of what I told you?” 

“I would have to leave regardless, there is a growing evil over these lands and its best if I meet with the rest of the white council.” Bilbo frowns because that means Saruman and Gandalf laughs, catching it. 

“In my defense he wanted me dead.” Bilbo points out dryly. “Sometimes I’m sure he still does no matter how much you and the elves deny it.”

“Saruman will do you no harm, it’s been over a thousand years after all.” Some of the mirth fades from Gandalf’s eyes as he adds. “And did you not want to be dead yourself those first few months?” 

Bilbo looks away but nods his head once. “I did and you know that changed by the time we reached Imaldris.” 

“I am ever so glad that it did, my old friend.” Gandalf says and there is such honesty in his voice that Bilbo cannot help but smile at him only slightly embarrassed. Wizards he thinks but it’s with fondness instead of scorn. 

“Well then.” Bilbo stands and stretches, cracking out his back. “I should get to sleep. I’m sure it’ll be a tiring walk to Beorn’s no matter how close it is.”

“Bilbo?”

“Stay safe and do not fear what waits you. You are stronger than you think.” Gandalf says at last and Bilbo nods and his sleep is easy that night and he does not dream of whispers in his ears or precious gold. By the time he wakes up in the morning Gandalf is gone. 

Beorn is a tall and gruff looking man and at first he looks as if he is going to turn them away. He stops at Balin’s mention of Gandalf's name and bids them to tell their story. Balin does and it seems like everyone jumps in at one part or another adding something to the tale. 

At last he looks over them all with his fierce eyes and when he comes upon Bilbo they linger and in return the hobbit scowls slightly at him staring back with a pointed look. 

The large man laughs loud and booming. 

“You can stay as long as you need. Nothing dangerous will come into these lands.” Beorn tells though most of the company is distracted by all of the strange animals. Bilbo is just glad none of them fear him. He can’t tell if that’s because of Beorn’s influence or not. 

“Have you ever seen bees that big?” Kili says eyeing them suspiciously. The company seems to regard Beorn in general as suspicious though Bilbo knows that Gandalf’s friends can only be odd at most or at least that’s what he hopes.

“What are you doing?” Fili says curiously and that draws the eyes of some members of the company. 

Bilbo doesn’t look up at him from his place on the ground, stretching out and resting in a nice patch of grass. He’s tired and sore--his back still aches, if someone like Beorn says it safe then he’s not inclined to doubt him. Besides the sun is shining in a way that he’s missed since the beginning of this journey. 

“Resting.” Fili looks at his brother and they shrug together before joining him. After a while Ori comes over and eventually Bofur and his kin do as well until at least half of the company is next to him though he’s the only one really resting. The rest are talking or reading or carving and Bilbo is struck by a sense of contentedness so wide that he doesn’t care that he spends the day half-way drowsy because of the sun. 

Beorn lets them sleep in his halls and the younger dwarves fall asleep quickly, their familiar snoring a comforting presence. The rest however are too used to the outside and the hard ground, the ever-present danger to really relax though Bofur assures him they’ll adjust quickly.

“Master Baggins would you come with me please?” Bilbo looks up, lost in the story Dori and Bofur had been telling him only to see Balin smiling pleasantly at him. 

Bilbo blinked in confusion and nodded letting himself be led away from the conversation without a thought. His confusion only grew as they wandered farther into the woods until the sounds of the company was a dim chatter. “What’s this about then? Obviously it’s important or you wouldn’t have cared--”

“I saw what you did when you saved Thorin’s life. I saw you burn the orc and light the pinecones. I’ve heard how the elves of Rivendell treated you, how Gandalf views you as an old friend. I even saw the way Beorn looked at you.”

Of course it had to be Balin who had found out. If it had been one of the younger dwarves or even Bofur it wouldn’t have mattered so much. He could convince them or outsmart them but he couldn’t do that to someone as strongly intelligent as Balin. “There’s no point denying it is there?” Bilbo said shortly and then shook his head. “Well are you going to kill me yourself or tell Thorin and have him do it?”

Balin’s pleasant smile lessened. “Do people often threaten you with death when they find out?”

“Generally? Yes.” He says and thinks of a looming counsel though the thought quickly disappears. “I take it to mean you’re not?”

The old dwarf shakes his head slowly and Bilbo relaxes, the tension in his chest fading away. “I just want to understand. All you’ve done as far as I can see is help this company. No harm will come to you.”

“Don’t make promises you can’t keep.” He warns but then Bilbo has no choice but to tell his story. He should be more relieved. He isn’t dead yet but Balin doesn’t know the worst of it, can’t even guess what he is. But the story is an old one and painful despite that fact. 

The dwarf remains silent throughout the entire event and for that Bilbo is nothing but grateful. The look on his face is blank and the smile fades at some point but Bilbo doesn’t stop, not even when he can feel his throat go sore. If he stops he knows he’ll never start it again. 

The last thing he says is this: “Gandalf would not choose me to come if he thought I was a danger to you. Even if we are friends. For all intents and purposes I am a hobbit. I cannot fly and I cannot change shape. I stay away from gold and I bet I eat more greens then you dwarves. In a fight if it came down to it you could kill me easily even with my small fires.” 

In short he was entirely helpless. 

Balin nods but says nothing and it is painfully silent and Bilbo cannot help but remember a different time when his fate was decided for him. At least he’s not in shackles this time. “Why were you saved?”

Bilbo stares at him startled, if there was any question he had expected then it hadn’t been that, and then shrugs. “I don’t know.” Long forgotten words echo in his head, words that speak of a purpose beyond violence and death and the reign of dragon’s fire. He could have more than that if he chose it. 

“Will you tell the others?”

“You won’t tell them yourself?” Bilbo challenged and Balin shook his head. “I’ll tell them eventually, I’ll have to.” Secrets like this could not be kept forever, even now it was starting to unravel if Balin had noticed then who was to say another had not?

Balin clapped him on the back and gave him one last suggestion that had made Bilbo frown. “I’d advise you to tell Thorin yourself instead of letting this slip out.” 

Bilbo thought about it--very briefly. He pictured the dwarf’s rage and he could picture the look of betrayal passing over his face. He could see it so easily, so clearly that it made him wince. Dwarves did not forgive. The issue of the elves proved that. 

No, he wouldn’t be telling Thorin anytime soon if he could help it. 

When the next night Beorn returned from his ‘hunting’ and looked at him in such a way he was sure even Fili and Kili would notice, Bilbo rose away from the company and led the big man somewhere private. 

“What is it?” He said somewhat exasperated. He’d be damned if he let the skin changer ruin everything just by looking at him oddly. “You keep looking at me and someone is bound to notice and it won’t be the right someone’s Master Beorn.”

Beorn had looked stunned the entire time the hobbit had dragged him away and the man laughed when he had finished. Bilbo’s scowl deepened and he had half a mind to burn the insufferable fool. “I would not have allowed your company to stay had I not noticed you. Even with the wizard’s word I’m not fond of dwarves or beggars.”

“I mean no harm, little bunny.” Bilbo stared at him impatiently and the man continued. “I’ve never seen a skin changer such as you and it surprised me.”

“I’m no skin changer.” Wasn’t the point of staying here in getting a break and healing up? With how much he was fearing for his secret and how his back still pained him he doubt he’d be getting much rest at all. 

Beorn raised an eyebrow at him. “So there’s a different reason why you smell like smoke and dragon but look like a halfling?”

Bilbo opened his mouth to protest but Beorn continued and he found himself closing it. “You’ve the spirit of a dragon and the heart of one too, little bunny. Anyone can see that. You stalk about like someone twice your size and you watch over your hoard with fierce yes.”

“I have no hoard, though I’m sure you could make an argument for all of my books back at the Shire.” Bilbo said because it was the only thing he could really saw. If Beorn saw things that weren’t there then who was he to challenge that? For all the strange looks the man had offered them his home. 

The skin changer smiled slightly. “A hoard can be more than gold or books. I think your hoard is people, little bunny.”

He frowned at him but found he had nothing to say about that. 

“Can you not change your form?” Beorn said and when Bilbo said he couldn’t he looked as if the very thought of it surprised him. 

“I tried once.” Bilbo admitted, losing most of his temper. 

“It did not go well?”

“I could feel it underneath my skin, I thought it was waiting for me and I tried--it felt like I was dying all over again.” Bilbo barely held back a shudder, the phantom pain still very clear to him even so many years later. It had felt like his bones were breaking and his organs turning to ash and even then he hadn’t so much as changed one of his fingers into claws. “If I can I don’t know if the price is worth it.” 

“I’m sorry then. I’ve seen in the old days how much your kin enjoyed the air.” 

He shrugged. “You get used to such things.”

Beorn frowned at him. “You cannot tell me you don’t miss it.”

“Of course I do.” Bilbo said incredulously. “But I have other things that are more important than whether I get to fly again. The sky was my home once but no longer.” His back throbbed in defiance right where his wings had once lay. 

“You are a strange man, little bunny but a good one.” There was some admiration in his voice and Bilbo smiled. 

“Bilbo.” He corrected. “If you’re going to call me anything it might as well be that.”

Beorn nodded. “Bilbo.”

“You should get back to your hoard. I think they’ll get nervous if I keep you much longer.” Beorn said with a smirk and before Bilbo could say anything the skin changer wandered off into his forest and he could only shake his head. 

“Not my damn hoard.” Bilbo muttered as he headed back to the house. 

He was on the large stone steps that led into Beorn’s Hall when he heard the voice from out of the darkness. “Burglar?” Bilbo didn’t jump but was close to. 

“For calling me a burglar you seem to do more much sneaking about yourself, Master Dwarf.” Bilbo said frowning. 

Thorin to his surprise only laughed, the sound rich and deep and for a second Bilbo was almost mesmerized and then he shook his head coming back to himself. “What are you doing out here?”

Thorin gave him a smile--an actual smile, not a smirk or a scowl. Bilbo swore this day could not get any stranger. “I was looking for you; Fili and Kili grew worried when you did not return from your walk.”

“Oh! I forgot about them.” They had been pressing him for ‘hobbity’ stories for ages and he hadn’t been planning to tell them at all but Ori had said he was interested too and even Bofur had chimed in. “I was talking with Beorn.”

Thorin’s half-smile twisted into a scowl just like that and Bilbo rolled his eyes. “Is there any race that you don’t hate? First it’s the elves and now skin changers and don’t think I haven’t noticed how you fight with Gandalf sometimes.”

“Hobbits I’ve found are not so bad despite their appearances.” 

“Despite their appearances?” Bilbo said challengingly, some part of him would always love teasing Thorin. 

Thorin shook his head muttering under his breath in what Bilbo could only presume to be Khudzul. “I didn’t mean for it to come out that way.”

“I know.” Bilbo said simply. “I stand by my words from Rivendell, you cannot keep to such dislike of others. A cycle of distrust and hate will only end in more distrust and hate after all.”

Thorin to Bilbo’s relief didn’t look angry merely pensive and the dwarf king nodded. “You remind me of the wizard sometimes.” Thorin said teasingly and Bilbo laughed. 

“I think I should count that as a strike on my honor. I have far more sanity then Gandalf the Grey ever will.”

“That remains to be seen, burglar.” Thorin said and his voice was soft and warm and it almost sounded fond. 

“I’ll prove it to you yet.” He promised with a grin and felt proud of himself when Thorin smiled that almost smile again. Silence came over them then and he wanted to question it, curious as he ever was but found he had no words that were adequate enough and for the moment he was content to let it rest.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1\. One day you guys will get the full story of what happened to Bilbo but that day is not today. 
> 
> 2\. Don't expect an update until next weekend or so. I'm swamped with homework for political science and art history (this is more of a notice then a note but so be it)
> 
> Edit: Thanks ABRZA for pointing out that mistake! 
> 
> (If you guys see some kind of mistake just point it out and I'll edit it. Because when I look this over later and see them it makes me wince and then I hide in shame for a few days)


	6. Of Wounds and Winters

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, there's possible things in this chapter that might be triggery so check the endnotes if this concerns you. (I figured I'd rather be safe then sorry)

Beorn’s halls didn’t have a proper place to bath and when Bilbo considered how much work would be put into that endeavor for a man of his size, well he found it understandable why. 

“There’s a stream nearby, where you can wash up.” The man says gruffly and then disappeared as he did everyday since their arrival, stopping only to pat Bilbo on the head. At least he no longer looked at Bilbo so evidently, though occasionally Bilbo would look back and see amusement in his dark eyes when no one else was paying attention. 

“He’s fond of you, isn’t he?” Bofur says laughter in his voice and Bilbo rolls his eyes as they headed down to the stream. Judging by the noise, most of the company is already down there. 

Fili and Kili wave when they see him and he nods, slowly getting undressed. Besides the lads there’s only Bofur’s kin and the brothers Ri. Good. He’s bathed with them before but it feels almost odd now, especially if Thorin were here—Bilbo can feel heat rising up his neck and he quickly shakes his head, shedding the rest of his clothing and sinking into the water as fast as possibly. 

Hobbits as a whole aren’t particularly fond of streams or rivers though he’s never been bothered much by it and he floats easily enough, content with watching the company play. It’s almost funny to see hardened warriors, dwarven warriors specifically, to act like children. 

Bilbo laughs as Fili dunks Ori under water and is swiftly splashed by Nori in revenge. His laughter fades as he thoughts turn dim suddenly aware that it won’t always be like this. How much longer can they stay in Beorn’s halls soaking up sunlight and laughter? The road forward can only grow worse and he can feel death approaching with each passing day, each mention of the dragon and Erebor. 

Once, long ago before the change, his Kin had a saying. Death has a smell. And it did though he was never sure how to explain it. It wasn’t blood or rotting bodies or anything close to that. It was just death and death was it. Weeks before a battle his kin would be nervous and tense, the smell of death wrapping itself around their homes and hoards until it was unbearable and when it was the strongest you knew that was when it was time to strike. Before the Men and Elves struck you in your belly with their damn arrows. 

He smells that bitter death-scent now. Bilbo isn’t sure when it started but he’s noticed it since the run in with Azog. Though that isn’t the only strange occurrence he’s noticed since the run in with the pale orc it’s the most prominent. He can disregard the way his flames are brighter, fiercer. He can ignore how much clearer things seem. He can ignore the burn in his shoulders, the way they haven't in over a thousand years. Bilbo can pretend that nothing has changed but only a fool would ignore the death-scent. 

So he lets himself think as he floats; plans and half-formed ideas swimming in his mind as his friends' happy voices become only a distant echo. He is clever. He is clever and he can keep the death-scent away from his hoard. He can—

Bilbo splutters and swallows what feels like an entire mile of water before his head breaks the surface and he finds a cheeky looking Kili grinning at him. “Imp.” Bilbo curses and pulls himself farther up until he’s sitting on a rock with only his feet touching the water.

“What’s that?” Kili says curiously and before he knows it he feels something prodding at his shoulder. 

“Hmm?” Bilbo says thinking of how he’s going to manage to washing his hair while perched on the safety of his rock. The prodding grows harder and he yelps slightly and he hears the sound of water shifting quickly as if someone has pulled away suddenly. 

“Bilbo?” He turns and finds that the dwarves are staring at him strangely and he frowns. 

“Well, what is it then?”

“Has his skin always been like that?” Ori whispers. 

“What?”

“No, I don’t think so. It was fine back in Rivendell and before that, wasn’t it?”

“What?”

“What do you think it is?”

“What are you talking about?” Bilbo snaps and the dwarves immediately fall silent, staring at him with wide eyes. “What are you lot going on talking about my skin for? What’s changed?”

He reaches behind him and stretches as best as he can and aha! There! The edges of his fingertips skim over something smooth and deceptively soft—and he freezes because he knows, instantly he knows what it is because you can’t forget something like that, not in a million years can you forget the way your true skin actually feels. 

“—Well what is it? Is this a hobbity thing or should we get Oin?”

“What?” Bilbo says and he reluctantly pulls his hand back. He forces himself to relax and he pretends to look at them puzzled for a moment before ‘oh-ing’ in realization. “This? This is in fact a ‘Hobbity thing’ as you called it Kili.” 

“What is it, lad? If you don’t mind us askin’?” Bofur says kindly and Bilbo thinks carefully before a story quickly comes to mind. It’s not entirely a lie but he can twist it to work enough for his own purposes. 

“Hobbits used to be wanderers before they settled into the Shire, it’s said that our ancestors had walked all over middle-earth and because of the tough terrain our feet grew big and strong. The rest of our ancestors grew big and strong to follow them. It’s said that when we came to the shire we lost our size and became small but kept our tough feet as memory for all the long years we searched for a home. My grandfather used to say that if a Hobbit started wandering again he’d started to become just as tough as his feet.”

Ori looked interested but he couldn’t read the others, couldn’t be sure on whether they bought it or not but he figured that either way they wouldn’t press him too much about it. Dwarves were notoriously private people, he figured that went the same way in return. 

“Does this mean you’re going to get taller?” Kili says curiously and the others start to chuckle at him as Bilbo shakes his head no. The cheerful air from earlier returns then though Bilbo spends most of that time thinking as he resists the urge to touch his shoulders. 

The dwarves leave before him as they always do and Bilbo can’t help it, he touches the bumps again and he frowns finally coming to a decision. Well, there’s only one way to be sure isn’t there? If only Gandalf was here. The wizard could confirm it easily, having been the only one who actually knew what they looked like. Balin was an option now that he knew the truth but Bilbo thought about it and then pushed it away. Balin knew but who was sure how accepting he would be? Matters like these were always easier to accept when the proof was not being shoved so blatantly in your face. 

By the time Bilbo actually bothers to clean his hair and wash himself as best as he can the sky has darkened and the water has become almost unbearably cool. He’s not even surprised to find most of the company sitting in front of the hearth. Nor is he surprised by what they’re doing. At least not anymore. 

He'd spent so long surrounded only by his little hobbits that he'd forgotten that other races' customs were not the same. He'd been shocked to see all of them braiding each other's hair and had been about to ask Bofur but at that very moment so long ago, Gandalf had stepped in as was his way and saved him from the dwarves thinking even less of him.

"My dear friend, surely you remember that all dwarves braid their hair." The wizard had said in a hushed whisper. "Why I expect a fine braid to a dwarf is the same as a well-cooked meal or a nice garden to a hobbit."

"Why are they braiding each other's hair? Can't they manage their own?" Bilbo asked, even as he watched Kili braid his brother's long hair.

The wizard's smile had turned wry. "I think if you suggest such a thing to a dwarf you'd get a most unpleasant reaction. Dwarves braid each others hair for many reasons; as a sign of kinship from parent to child, from brotherhood, and lastly intimately with their Ones."

Bilbo had considered this and then said very quietly in one last confirmaiton. "So it's really not just their women-folk who do it?"

Gandalf's booming had rung out through the camp and the dwarves had looked at them for a moment before going back to their braiding. 

Now Bilbo spared little attention to Dori fussing over Ori's unkempt hair, though to be honest that could be more of Dori then any Dwarven braiding tradition. Instead he weaved his way carefully through the room until at last he was by Bofur's side, the dwarf speaking casually to his brother. 

"Can I borrow your knife?" Bilbo says politely. "I need to repair a few of my things and my needles aren't strong enough to manage."

Bofur gives it to him without looking away from his kin and Bilbo slips out of Beorn's too large house without anyone noticing him. He wanders into the edge of forest, close enough that he'll hear anyone coming but far away that no one will see what he's about to do. 

First he pulls out a torn piece of clothing, the color similar to his waistcoat from the beginning of their journey. He'd meant to mend it but he's glad now that he hasn't. He places it between his mouth and bites down, wincing at the taste of dirt in his mouth. He swears it still tastes of troll. 

Then he pulls his shirt off and sets it out of the way. It's pointless to ruin such a decent thing so far away from any place to fix it. 

He hesitates. 

The sound of some bird's song fills the air and then--

It's now or never and before he can fully process what he's doing his hands come up and quick as a bite from his kin's teeth, Bofur's whittling knife slices into his shoulder and

Something dull presses against his shoulder and it takes him a second to realize that it's the damn knife and he presses even harder, biting down against the cloth in his mouth. 

It takes him another two minutes of carving before there's white-hot pain and he shrieks at the suddenness of it, the sound muffled by the strap. 

Well at least he's found it. 

His hands are more careful now as they inspect around, feeling the line between numb flesh and that flash of pain. When he feels the boundary he slowly pushes up against the resistance he finds. By the end of it he feels lightheaded and slow as if he's drunken all of the Old Gaffer's strongest winter ale but it doesn't matter when he finally hears the sound of something falling and he twists around. 

He moves too fast, too suddenly and he's struck by so severe of dizziness that he has to stay still and breathe slowly until it fades away. 

The scale he picks up is smaller then he's used to; to be fair the last time he had scales a single one was the size of his head. It's brown and dull, the edges of it covered in blood but when he holds it up, it shines as bright as any gold piece in the moonlight. 

Staring at it all Bilbo can think is _home _. He's so entranced by it that it takes him forever to notice the cold feel of blood dripping down his back and he pulls the strap out of his mouth and presses it on his shoulder, eyes never leaving his scale.__

__Bilbo pockets the scale and stands, pulling on his shirt with shaky pale fingers. Instead of answering his questions or resting his fears the scale and all it symbolizes has only risen more._ _

__The company is still by the hearth when he returns, still laughing and talking as if nothing has changed and Bilbo hands over the now clean knife to Bofur with a tired smile._ _

__"You fixed your things?" Bofur confirms, some strange concern plaguing his mind._ _

__"I've done my best but I think they're beyond saving." Bilbo says and he doesn't linger for much longer. Bilbo is the first to sleep that night though his dreams are no more pleasant for it._ _

__By the time the moon dies his shoulder will be fully healed, a new stronger scale in its place._ _

__Thorin announces that they leave within the next few days and no one is entirely surprised. "He doesn't trust Beorn much." Bofur says quietly, smoking his pipeweed and offering Bilbo some._ _

__Bilbo snorts. "Much?"_ _

__The next two days is spent preparing for their journey. Beorn offers them supplies to last for weeks for though the company does not like it the only way to travel and make it to Erebor by Durin's Day is through the forest that lies nearby._ _

__Bilbo once knew it as Greenwood the Great and an elf named Oropher was crowned king of the lands. He remembers Elrond telling of the lands as plentiful and strong though he never saw it in person himself. Both have changed in the years since, the forest has grown dark and twisted so Beorn says and Oropher's son, Thranduil rules over it all. This Bilbo imagines is the elven king who abandoned the dwarves of Erebor so many years ago._ _

__"Why so much food?" Ori asks curiously and Bilbo has to agree, the majority of their supplies are food._ _

__"Do not eat anything that grows in the forest." Beorn says his face serious and his tone grim and even the heirs of the line of Durin stop their playing around as he speaks. "Nothing good grows in those lands."_ _

__The words are simple but they send a shiver down Bilbo's spine and he thanks Beorn's little animal helpers later that night. Bilbo has endured starvation once or twice before and the thought of doing so again makes him nervous._ _

__They have a party that night, one last sure night of celebration and in the morning they'll set out for the forest. Bilbo compares it to hobbit parties and smugly thinks his owns' are better. He pointedly doesn't imagine what a celebration at the Erebor of Old must have been like. He can't handle the possibility of all that gold or that many dwarves._ _

__Some of the company play their fiddles and others hum along, voices deep and strong as all of theirs are. Bilbo listens and is reminded of long sleepy rivers and green rolling hills. For all that this most definitely isn't his shire or his hobbits he's reminded of them and their parties._ _

__Sometimes kinship is easy to see no matter the race it resides in._ _

__"You look unhappy, halfling." Thorin sits down, watching his company with easy amused eyes._ _

__Bilbo shrugs, watching as Fili and Kili dance to the song. They're horrible really, probably the worst dancers he's ever seen and he thinks the drink plays only a small part in that. On any other day he'd be laughing along with the rest of his friend. "I cannot be happy when I know what approaches."_ _

__"I thought you'd be happy, we're close to your precious elves." Thorin says dryly, remembering the hobbit's words from the other week. His tone holds no malice, only teasing and Bilbo rolls his eyes._ _

__"Despite what you seem to think, I hold no great love for all elves. I am only so fond of those who have helped me." Bilbo says promptly and Thorin raises an eyebrow and takes the opportunity._ _

__"Like the Wizard?" The company has often wondered how a famed Wizard came into the friendship of such a small domestic creature and even he had wondered at the beginning, when his thoughts towards the hobbit had been less then kind and less then fair. He knows now that Bilbo Baggins has worth more then he seems. The curiosity from before clings despite this._ _

__Bilbo smiles and Thorin is happy to see that it is a real one, the first he's seen so far. The Halfling has spent the entire day brooding and though it matters little to him personally it's his responsibility to keep his company workable. His unruly nephews tease that is more than that but a swift cuff up the side of theirs heads is enough to stop such things._ _

__"Gandalf the Grey has done the hobbits of the Shire a great service and there are some among us that do not forget it so easily." Bilbo says simple in that damn mystifying way and Thorin frowns._ _

__He's about to press further but is interrupted by a much quiet, more polite voice. "Can you tell us about it?" Ori says shyly, sitting down next to the dwarf-king and Bilbo stares at him in surprise, suddenly realizing that the room is much quieter, the sound of fiddles and rich baritones gone._ _

__"You never did tell them your 'hobbit stories'." Thorin points out smirking at the way Bilbo frowns at him._ _

__"Tell us." Kili and Fili settle in on either side of the hobbit and before Bilbo knows it the company is surrounding them, eyes curious save for Thorin who only looks smug. "Please?"_ _

__Bilbo barely resists glaring at Thorin. There's no way at all that he can twist his meeting with Gandalf the way he's twisted other hobbit stories. "Are you sure you want to hear a 'hobbit' story? I'm sure it can't compare to a grand dwarven tale like you're used to."_ _

__"We'll adjust." Nori cuts in smoothly, mischief in his eyes._ _

__Bilbo's frown deepens. It seems the entire company is conspiring against him._ _

__"It's not a happy tale." Bilbo warns and then he speaks for once the loudest voice in a room full of dwarves._ _

__"It was some few years ago, the weather had grown cold earlier then we expected and it quickly be came clear that it was also stronger then we'd ever imagined."_ _

__In his time protecting the Shire only three terrible events had happened that he could not prevent or fix. Two were long and dreadful winters and the third, a famine.The first winter had been worse by far in terms of weather and death. Cold and bitter, stepping more then a few feet out of your smial risked the chance of death. Bilbo had been at a loss of what to do, thousands of his hobbits lay dead of starvation and it hadn't mattered how much he hunted or how little he himself ate._ _

__It was never enough._ _

__It would never be enough._ _

__He remembers the feeling of hopelessness. He remembers passing by houses and smelling the death-scent and knowing he could do nothing._ _

__The worse was how slow it took. Death by a blade was quick and horrible and death of old age a sign of a good life but his hobbits died slowly, died gaunt and thin._ _

__Then there was a beacon of hope. Gandalf the Grey had shown up one day as if he'd belonged and Bilbo had felt like weeping. He'd thrown himself to the man's feet and begged. Any last feelings of hate had fled away for good as the Wizard who'd saved him long ago saved Bilbo's hobbits._ _

__It wasn't all fixed due to his intervention. There was only so much that could be done and a famine followed it. For the rest of that year the death-smell clung to the Shire. It was buried in the new ground._ _

__Bilbo doesn't like thinking of the winters much. He did all he could but it never feels like enough. Shame and anger are still very much present when he thinks of those years and those who he swore to protect, dying._ _

__That first cold winter was horrible but when Bilbo does think about the winters, he always thinks the second was worse. The second brought them._ _

__"As we starved we realized something worse was lurking about and Hobbits stayed close to home, tension brewing in the air and it wasn't until the Brandywine river froze over that we found out what it was."_ _

__"Bilbo?" Thorin says quietly noticing the haunted look in the Hobbit's eyes, the way his hands are wrapped tightly around the armchair._ _

__Bilbo shook his head and continued on, hate coloring his tone. "The _wolves _came then."___ _

____"Oh Mahal." Balin said quietly in horror, a sentiment echoed by many of the company. During particularly rough winters wolves weren't uncommon on the borders of the Blue Mountains and even Erebor had its own trouble with wolves._ _ _ _

____"We weren't fighters, the best we had were farmers and the best we could do was hide in our homes and hope that they would spare us and count our dead when they left."Bilbo says and he remembers coming home to Bag End and finding Belladonna and Bungo hiding in their room, knives at the ready._ _ _ _

____The hobbits could hide but he couldn't. He was better then a farmer if by little and if any stray wolves came into his path he tried to burn them as badly as his could. His flames weren't as strong back then and in the end Bilbo has many jagged teeth scars and killed few wolves._ _ _ _

____"Is this where the wizard comes in?" Thorin says gently and Bilbo almost jumps when a hand rests comfortingly on his shoulder. The warmth and weight of it steadies him and he nods taking in a breath._ _ _ _

____"It came to a head towards the end and we couldn't hide any longer. It wasn't saving us anymore just making it easier for them to get us. Some of us were tired of hiding. We wanted to fight, this was our home, this was our land and these were our people being killed by animals. We'd sent out messages for help but we didn't know if they were received until one day."_ _ _ _

____Bilbo smiles slightly, "Until the day Gandalf came and with him, rangers from the north who gave us food and helped as best they could. Not all of them could stay but those who did helped us fend off the wolves, Gandalf including."_ _ _ _

____"You fought off the wolves?" Fili says in surprise, remembering all the little halflings they'd seen on the way to Bag End, trying and failing to picture any of them fighting as warriors. "With what?"_ _ _ _

____"Hoes and picks, knives and pans, whatever we could find. We used what we could and we kept them at bay and they were gone by the time the river unfroze." The dwarves looking approving at this, understanding the need to defend their home._ _ _ _

____Bilbo distinctly remembers Belladonna wielding a frying pan, charging into the fight as carelessly as the rest of her mad relatives. Though he also remembers Bungo using a shovel and pushing off a wolf or two with the help of Hobson Gamgee. He even remembers a young Lobelia Sackville-Baggins, no more than a fauntling really, throwing rocks at anything that dare get by, a pack of even younger children behind her._ _ _ _

____"And that is why despite being entirely un-hobbitsh and eccentric and far too prone for adventures the Hobbits of the Shire allow Gandalf into their borders." Bilbo finishes, smiling softly._ _ _ _

____To his surprise other members of the company tell their own battle stories and in the case of the younger ones, any story that's particularly humorous or interesting. The mood lightens and his smile remains as does Thorin's hand which has somehow moved to being wrapped loosely around Bilbo's shoulder, barely touching it._ _ _ _

____Bilbo smiles and doesn't comment on it and instead starts a particularly lengthy discussion with Nori about pipeweed._ _ _ _

____In the morning they'll wake early, half of them complaining of headaches and feeling sick to their stomach from too much drink, but they get up anyways, a feeling of restlessness in the air that even Bilbo can't deny._ _ _ _

____They'll leave for the mirkwood and the troubles that are bound in it and Bilbo's spirits will lessen as he sees the twisted remains of a once green and grand place._ _ _ _

____For now they celebrate and dream of Erebor, of their own home to take back. For once with the warmth of Thorin's strong hands resting close to him Bilbo dreams of it too and hopes for a future less grim then his thoughts._ _ _ _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1\. possible triggery things: A) a character harms himself and cuts off the equivalent of a piece of skin. B) mentions of starvation due to famine.
> 
> 2\. Gandalf did intervene in the cases of both winters and famine canonically as did the rangers. 
> 
> 3\. Hobson Gamgee is the father of Hamfast Gamgee who is the dad of our dear Sam. 
> 
> 4\. Mirkwood approaches. 
> 
> I apologize for how long it took to update, school is ending very quickly and I recently had to replace my laptop. Don't expect an update until friday/saturday of next week, I have my final exams -____-
> 
> Edit: to the lovely person in the comments, it was in fact supposed to be "dear Sam" and not "dead Sam", thanks for pointing it out! :)  
> *Remember if you see any mistakes to let me know and I'll fix it! I'm especially concerned since I had to write this without a spellchecker.


	7. Of Starving and Spiders

Beorn gives them enough food to last for at least a month’s time and Bilbo can see the tension in all their faces as that deadline fast approaches. Though he knows it does, it has to, it feels as if the forest has no clear end. 

They try to stretch out the food, cutting it down into smaller and smaller amounts but they only manage to make it last for an extra week and a half before they run out. 

“This is the last isn’t it?” Bilbo murmurs quietly to Thorin as a solemn Bombur and Bofur pass out their small meals. 

Thorin’s grim look is enough of an answer in itself. 

As the others eat—slowly, carefully as if savoring their meal he makes his way over to Balin and politely asks if they can talk privately. Balin’s still uncomfortable around him that much Bilbo can tell so he’s been avoiding the elder dwarf as much as you possibly can when being constantly in the same space. Matters like these take time to get use to and he can only be relieved that Balin’s a much better actor than say Kili ever would be. 

“Yes, lad?” Balin says raising an eyebrow as Bilbo rings his hands slightly and then decides to just say it. A dwarf like Balin would probably appreciate the straightforwardness. 

“I want you to take my food.” Bilbo says and clears his throat once, he sees the look in Balin’s eyes and then hastily adds. “Give it to Oin or Ori, anyone who looks like they need it.”

“No one’s going to take your food from you.” Balin says not unkindly. “Not even Bombur would.”

Oh Yavanna does Bilbo know that! He’s spent the past few days cursing the stubbornness of dwarves seven ways to the valar. Every time he tries to offer any of them food they give him that critical look, like he needs protecting and refuses. 

“I know I look weaker than you and some ways I suppose I am.” Bilbo begins quietly, glancing around at the dining company nearby. “But you must understand in some ways I’m far stronger, this is one of them.”

“Bilbo?”

He shrugs and then squares his shoulders with determination. “Well I’m…what I am after all, even if I look like a hobbit. I don’t need to eat as much as you and my stomach won’t protest the lack of one meal the way yours might.”

Dragons could go years, decades even without eating, usually during periods of great hibernation but sometimes just because of a lack of food or being too sick to get a meal. It was one of the many reasons why Bilbo privately thought Smaug was still alive. 

The lack of eating was one of the traits that had carried over, though to a far lesser extent. He’d gotten used to eating the way he did from his hobbits but he wasn’t lying when he said he could afford to miss a meal or two. 

Balin looked considerate but he agreed as Bilbo knew (hoped) he would. He was smart enough to agree where others might refuse out of some kindness. 

“I’ll see what I can do.” Balin says shortly, giving him a nod before heading back to the company. 

Bilbo can feel his stomach ache with hunger pains but he pushes away, he’s had worse than this and a few days without food won’t kill him. They’ll be out of Mirkwood in no time.

“Bilbo, come sit with us!”Fili calls, trying to bring some cheer back to the group and Bilbo sighs once before plastering on his most pleasant expression. 

A few days turns into a week and they start growing desperate. Hunger is slow killing but soon they’ll be out of water as well and they’ve found no water in this forest so far. 

“I could try and hunt something with my bow?” Kili offers, his voice raspy and dry like all of theirs are now. Bilbo has to hold back a wince every time he hears it. 

Thorin over them all just once and his agreement comes far too easily than it once would. 

It takes Kili nearly the entire the day to get a kill and by the end of it even Ori’s trying to help, shooting anything he can with his slingshot as the rest of them remain as quiet as possible. In the end all they catch are two squirrels, skinny and lean but at least it’s something. 

The squirrels they find taste foul and not even the hungriest among them can eat more than a bite. “Beorn did say the forest ruined everything it touched.” Bilbo says wishing he had water to wash out his mouth, unfortunately this doesn’t warrant using his small stash even with the rotten taste stuck on his cracked tongue. 

“We’re going to die here.” Gloin grumbles and Bilbo’s heart drops when no one speaks a word of protest. 

They spend their days traveling as much as they can, covering miles and miles of ground but it seems like they never get anywhere before night sets in. At least the walking keeps their minds off of food though no one has the attitude to sing or make jokes. It’s just silence. 

One day Bilbo realizes that the entire forest is silent. He doesn’t think he’s heard even a bird’s song once since they stepped inside. The thought makes him shiver and he mentions it to no one though Thorin always look at him strangely, knowingly, when he thinks such things. 

The nights are the most difficult of all. Their fires always seem to go out no matter how much kindling they use and it’s cold, far too cold when it’s not even autumn yet and the leaves haven’t changed. He’s not entirely sure how but Bilbo ends up sleeping next to Thorin and it’s no surprise when he wakes up too close to the dwarf-king, heat radiating between them, at least it’s no surprise after the first few times. 

He blames the cold and he doesn’t have enough energy to bring it up so it remains between them. 

He’s so cold and hungry that he doesn’t really care. It’s warmer to sleep with someone else than it is to freeze alone and even the rest of the company has paired up together, sleeping as close as they can. 

The first time it happened Bilbo had waited until it was Thorin’s turn on watch before asking. He figured it’d be less embarrassing to be rejected if most of the company was already asleep. “Do you mind if I sleep here?” He’d said, resolutely looking anywhere but at Thorin and his face was flushed and he pretended it was from the cold and hoped to Yavanna that Thorin didn’t notice. 

He may or may not have stuttered a bit when he said it. 

Thorin looked him over, seriousness in those blue eyes of his and clearly Bilbo was a pitiful sight because he’d swore they softened because Thorin simply nodded and that had been enough for him. Bilbo brought his sleep roll over and immediately curled up into a ball. He’d been asleep in minutes and it had been better than it had been in days. He woke up only once that night and he’d been almost startled at Thorin’s strong arm wrapped around his middle but the dwarf had murmured something quiet to him and Bilbo fell back under sleep’s elusive spell.

The worst part of this all was privy to Bilbo alone. He could feel someone or something more likely, watching them. It wasn’t so bad during daylight but when the sun set the strange feeling was only amplified and Bilbo didn’t feel safe no matter what. Whatever it was was clever because he couldn’t smell anything and he never saw anything but he knew it was there. 

Though they weren’t sure why the company remained tense and wary of it themselves and without a proper reason Thorin doubled up on everyone’s watching shifts. 

“Forget hunger, we’re going to die of exhaustion.” Bofur complained but there was no heat to his words and even Thorin looked pained when it was his turn to watch. 

“How much longer do you think we’ll be here?” Bilbo says sleepily as he leans against Thorin, head resting on his side, near his thigh. He’d been leaning on his shoulder, trying to talk to the dwarf as long as he could in an attempt to keep both of them awake but he’d started to drift off some time ago. 

Thorin is quiet for a moment. “I do not know.” He admits and it sounds like it hurts him to say it, knowing Thorin it probably does. Bilbo tries to pat his shoulder comfortingly but he can’t quite reach from his position and he gives up after a moment, hand still waved in the air awkwardly before he remembers to set it down. 

Hidden to all,Thorin smiles anyway. 

“We’re gonna make it out of this.” Bilbo mutters, face halfway buried in the warmth of Thorin’s jacket and yes, there’s absolutely no way he’d do this if he was fully awake but like everyone else he’s just so bone-tired now. His words are mostly a yawn now, voice stolen by sleep but somewhere in his tired thoughts he thinks Thorin needs to hear them. “You know that right? We’re stronger than some forest.”

The dwarf-king’s smile widens and if Bilbo’s eyes were open then he would only be able to describe the look Thorin is giving him as ‘fond.’ A hand settles in his hair and Thorin’s voice is quiet but warm as he says, “Go to sleep Halfling, you’re being foolish as usual.”

Thorin’s words are warm and his hand is warm and even the fire is still going so Bilbo does.

When he wakes up he is alone. 

For a second he thinks it’s just Thorin and he nearly goes back to sleep because Thorin is almost always the first of them to rise but it’s too quiet, even in this place that has no sound and when he rolls over he sees that everyone is gone but their sleep rolls are still unpacked and their weapons lay in the same place as they did last night.

Bilbo struggles to his feet, looking frantically around the camp. It’s no use calling out for them, they’ve been kidnapped and one attempt at smelling for them tells him they’ve been gone awhile. Besides he can barely differentiate from their smells, they all just smell ‘dwarf’ to him. Too much of stone and a little of earth. Not the clear-cut grass and apples smell of his hobbits. 

He growls and the inhuman sound echoes around the camp, Bilbo barely remembers to pick up his ‘letter-opener’ before he storms off, stepping off the damn path for the first time in over a month. 

At first he’s lost because the smell of dwarf grows fainter and fainter the deeper he gets in the forest before sharply veering into nothing but a strange sticky smell that lingers everywhere but then Bilbo hears it. 

Hissing sounds, vile whispers cling to the trees and though the sounds are faint they carry on the wind and Bilbo has no choice but to follow. The trail that leads him deeper into the woods is not smooth and somehow it’s darker still even though daylight has barely touched the ground, the most sinister sign is the cobwebs. The farther he goes more and more of them he sees until they touch every tree. There is a rotten, bitter smell in the air and when Bilbo dares to look down he sees dead animals everywhere. Some of them are eaten but most remain untouched, their limbs frozen. 

By now there is more than enough evidence of what the creatures are and Bilbo can only hope that’s it only a single spider instead of a pack. Forest spiders are rarely clever like their larger and fiercer cousins but their poison is still severe and it doesn’t take much cleverness to kill something you’re three times the size of. Only a sharp set of fangs really.

Bilbo stumbles, his feet catching on a stray rock or root and he slips and catching himself with his hands. The hissing has abruptly stopped. “Of course, the element of surprise would have been nice but when do things go my way?” 

He quickly makes his way to his feet and darts in a random direction, trying to be as fast yet silent as he possibly can. 

“Where iss itt?” 

“Where iss itt? We smell itsss dragon sssmell.”

“Where iss itt?”

Their voices are like nails on ice and he cannot help but shudder, some part of him wanting to flee. 

He’s no coward.

Bilbo doubles back, certain that his friends are somewhere around here and there! The smell of stones, by the Green Lady he never thought he’d miss such a thing. 

He travels to where the smell is the strongest, his feet light and quick as he does but Bilbo frowns when he gets there. The clearing is empty save for silken webs that are everywhere—the ground, the trees, they even block out the sun. 

Wait. 

Bilbo cranes his head and squints and then sighs, “You’re all in trees, oh of course they put you in trees.” 

There’s really only three possible options he has at this point because the spiders will be back soon and he isn’t particularly interested in seeing if they’ve evolved to be more attractive in the last thousand years or so. Option one) climb trees and cut down each dwarf individually—too slow of an option and he’s more likely to break his neck with the way his luck is turning out today. Option two) throw sword into tree in the attempts of cutting down dwarf while hoping he doesn’t accidentally maim them—too unpredictable and besides the sword would most likely be stuck in the tree after he rescued the first dwarf. That of course leaves only option three. 

He smiles.

The first fireball makes it halfway up the tree and for a second he panics thinking it’s going to set the tree on fire but it disappears in seconds. Bilbo steps a little farther back and concentrates harder, willing the fire to go where he wants it to. He pitches his hand back and almost lets out a shout in victory as it strikes at the top of the first dwarf’s web casing, dropping him down to the ground. 

Bilbo manages to get two more free of their tree prisons before he hears the still-distant sound of silver-quick whispers. He runs over to where the first dwarf is and pulls his way through the webbing, burning it only slightly. He only has to pull off a layer or two to see it’s Kili. Good, good. Kili is quick and young, he’ll recover from the stun of the venom more quickly. 

“Kili, lad get up. The others need your help.” Bilbo says and the dwarf groans, eyes fluttering open. 

“B-Bilbo?”

“Kili.” He says more sharply and Kili concentrates harder, focusing on his face. “I need you to help free the others.”

“The spiders.” Kili breathes out, his mind rapidly catching up and Bilbo spares him a nod. Kili stumbles to his feet, swaying slightly but at least he can walk. “Where are they? They’re so quick, they just snuck up on us.”

Kili moves over to the dwarf closest to him and Bilbo hopes it’s someone young like Fili or Ori. They’ll recover better and sooner. “Don’t worry about the spiders, I’ll take care of them.” Bilbo says trying for confidence and Kili nods, barely looking at him as his smart fingers pull at the webbing. 

“It’s a good thing they didn’t take you.” He mutters absently. 

Bilbo shrugs. “I suppose so.”

He could hazard a guess at the reason why. They said he had a dragon smell after all and Bilbo couldn’t smell it, not even with how strong his nose was becoming lately but he didn’t doubt it. It certainly explain why most animals disliked him and why he made so many people aside from his hobbits uneasy. 

“Bilbo?” Kili says, pausing in his task as the sound of the whispers grow closer and closer. The archer does shudder and Bilbo bits at his lip before making up his mind. Well he said he’d take care of him after all. 

“Whatever you hear you keep working at freeing the others, I mean it Kili.” Bilbo says and he hopes the stern look on his face is close the one he sees Thorin giving his nephews all the time. It’s the only thing he’s seen that’s actually effective at making them listen. 

Kili looks uncertain and Bilbo’s pointed look deepens and at last he nods letting Bilbo leave with a called out, "Be careful or Uncle will have my head!" but he has no time to ponder that and Bilbo darts back into the woods and pushes thoughts of the company out his mind. They’re in Kili’s hands now and he has faith in the boy. 

Mostly. 

How’d that rhyme go? He’s sure he’s heard Paladin and Ruby say it once or twice before when they were playing skip. “Lazy Lob and crazy Cob are weaving webs to wind me, I am far more sweet than other meat but still they cannot find me!” He hollered, satisfied at the way his voice echoed around the forest. 

He heard a loud snarl, the chattering of rows and rows of fangs and Bilbo moved farther and farther away from where the company was until the smell of stones and earth was distant. 

“Here I am, naughty little fly, you are fat and lazy!” Bilbo yells, voice singing-song and perhaps he is enjoying this a bit more than he should but it’s been a month they’ve been lost in this damn forest, a month without anything but the beat of hunger and the smell of fear upon them and he is tired of feeling afraid, tired of feeling weak. “You cannot trap me, though you try!”

“In your cobwebs crazy.” He finishes in a much softer voice and he has only seconds to wait before two massive spiders burst from the dark gnarled trees, screeching loud and shrill. They are darker than night, darker than the taint of Mirkwood. 

“Dragon.” One of them hisses out, its many eyes staring at him as it snarls. 

“Dragon.” The other one repeats again, smashing its teeth as they circle him. 

“Dragon.” Bilbo confirms with a vicious smile, eyes molten gold and he doesn’t wait, moving with an impossible speed. 

Flames burst out from his hands and the spiders shriek, rearing back from the light as he snarls. There is red-hot in him and he cannot control it so he lashes it out, something dark in him purring with delight as the spiders screech and snarl. 

One of them is braver or more foolish than its kin because it strikes back, scraping Bilbo in the shoulder even as flames lick up and down its back. Bilbo lets out a shout, the stinger being pulled painfully from his shoulder as it falls away. 

He reaches a hand up and touches it carefully, eyeing the still moving spider, but there’s no blood and Bilbo is suddenly very thankful of his scales. Stronger than near about anything. 

The spider hisses and charges forward and Bilbo throws fire at it, but it dodges and charges again, forcing him to move back. 

“I have neverrr had dragon beforrrre.” It says, dark eyes staring at him and Bilbo grits his teeth when his back hits a tree. “Do you think you'll tasssste better than dwarffff? Littttle dragon?”

Bilbo growls, unable to control himself, and it laughs, high and cold and the spider is too close and it slashes again, stinger piercing Bilbo’s stomach and he gasps, all he can do is gasp, shoving at it with all his might with fire in his hands. 

It howls flames on its belly and the howl is terrible and loud and Bilbo cannot think, cannot move as the venom races in his blood. His legs give out and he slides down to the cold forest floor as the spider twists and turns, trying to get the fire away from it. 

It snarls and snaps its teeth at him, enraged and Bilbo blinks, mind sluggish as he struggles to close his eyes, no desire to have that as his last sight. At least he saved the company, gave them some time and killed or knocked out one of the spiders…at least he did that much. 

What is that?

Bilbo frowns, something loud and piercing and yet oddly familiar ringing clear in the air but he cannot guess what it is, he is so tired and sleep is right there. 

There is another strange sound and he hears something scream and then there is nothing but black.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so sorry it took so long to update, but I just finished with school so hopefully things will be a bit more on track now (and hopefully I can do longer chapters and such)
> 
> If you see any mistakes then feel free to point them out and I'll fix them!
> 
> Also I figured I'd mention I have a tumblr so if you want to see when I'm updating/bother me to write/ prompt me to write something then you can do so it's " Windyree" 
> 
> ^____^
> 
> I'll see you guys again soon! (hopefully)


	8. Of the elf-king, Thranduil

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am so very very sorry for how long it took to update this, I had a terrible bout of computer trouble and actually had to get my hard drive replaced (Which unfortunately lost all of my stories, including the beginning parts of this chapter)
> 
> I'm not entirely happy with this chapter but I've gotten the main idea of what I wanted out of this chapter even if I'm not satisfied. 
> 
> But now that my computer is better and will hopefully stay that way I'll be able to do more regular updates.

Bilbo wakes up in an unfamiliar room, a dull throbbing running down his stomach but it is not the unbearable pain from before and his mind is no longer slow and sluggish. He looks down and finds bandages wrapped tightly around his stomach, instead of his raggedy shirt there is a new one folded at the end of the large bed. Slowly he makes his way to his feet and glances about the room. 

It's ornately decorated and the style is familiar, it appears almost elvish but something is strange about it. The room is fine, nicer than any he's been in in months but he has his suspicions and when he lightly presses his head against the thick door he hears two heart beats closely on the other side. 

No matter how nice it is still a cage then and there are few who could give him a cage so pretty, this far east. 

Bilbo sits and waits. His thoughts are twisted however, always focused on the fate of his friends. Had they made it out of the forest? Or were the lost to the spider or his capturers? Had they healed from the venom alright? Was anyone injured? Would they come for him? Did he want them to?

To his surprise there was a knock on the door before a tall elf stepped in. The second part wasn't so surprising but the smile on the elf's face was. "I see you're awake, Laerin--your healer will be pleased." 

Bilbo blinked at him. "Hello?" He'd expected something a bit more terrifying honestly. Even if the room was nice you usually didn't smile at prisoners you found dying in your woods. "Are you the king then?" He's most likely not. He imagines Thranduil wouldn't be smiling at him so.

"I am Legolas." The elf says with some pride in his voice though that cheeky grin still remains, taking away most of it."The king is my father."

Of course he is.

Bilbo bows slightly, hobbit manners finally kicking back in. "I am Bilbo Baggins."

"The dragon-kin?" Legolas says with curiosity in his voice and it is not a question so much as a statement. Bilbo wonders how he knows but dismisses it. The elves could have found out any number of ways from his scales to being told themself. Some knew that the name Bilbo belonging to a small hobbitsh being belonged to that of the dragon-kin. Though most of those belonged to members of the white council. 

"Yes, that's me."

Unconsciously Legolas sits down beside him, long legs folding underneath him. "I've heard many tales about you Bilbo Baggins, I was wondering what you could tell me is true of them."

Bilbo considers it and then agrees. At the least it'll keep him from his worries. 

Legolas is the only visitor he has for a week and a half. They trade stories everyday and though Bilbo is mostly unwilling at first that quickly fades away when the boredom comes. Days later he makes his first request. "I know you cannot tell me much but can you tell me of my friends, if they are well?"

The elf looks him over carefully, sees the barely contained worry in his eyes and agrees that he will try to find out information. "I will try my hardest though I can make no promises, my friend."

Bilbo's smile is more true when he speaks of the Shire and his laugh is real when Legolas talks of his first scouting mission and how his friends scared him. 

Legolas' report is short but it's the best thing he's heard in days: "Your friends are well and in good health. I've heard from the guards that they ask about you frequently."

"Really?" He says slightly surprised but somehow pleased. He's considered them friends for a while but he wasn't sure of their own feelings towards him. 

"Truly." Legolas reassures looking amused. "One of them was especially vocal that you were not to be harmed."

Near two weeks pass and Legolas' face is grim when he appears that day. "Bad news?" Bilbo says fearing for his friends. He has no means to protect them here.

"My father wishes to see you." He says words rushed out in a quiet tone. 

Bilbo stills and Legolas sees something in his eyes that makes him speak again. "He will not harm you Bilbo. He only wants to speak to you."

"There have been many men and elves alike who have wished to 'only' speak to me who have had other intentions." He snaps out in frustration and then sighs seeing the stung look on Legolas' face. For all the elf is old he is still so young at the same time. 

"Forgive me, I should not take my worry out on you so." Legolas is the only friend he has here, the only kindly face he sees. 

A calloused hand rests comfortingly on his shoulder and that familiar smile is back on the elf's face. "It is already forgiven."

Bilbo leans into the touch just for a moment and then moves away. "When is he coming?" If he has time he can steel himself, can push away all his worries. 

There is the sound of footsteps from outside just as Legolas says in a regretful voice. "Now." 

The son of Oropher is slender and tall with hair as bright as any gold and eyes bluer than the Brandywine river. He's beautiful as all the elves Bilbo has ever met have been but there is something even more stunning about him. The sight should stop him short, take away his breath but there is something cold in his eyes, an impassiveness that is barely held back and there is ice in his smile. 

Bilbo looks down at his hands even as Legolas stands striding toward him, affection clear on his face. "Father." he greets politely, warmth still evident and how can they be kin, from what he's seem Legolas is so carefree and Thranduil is held up by tension and tight strings. 

"My son." Thranduil says his eyes lingering on him only for a moment before they turn to Bilbo. "And this must be the infamous dragon-kin ." Bilbo's hands tighten involuntarily into fists before he forces them to release. It's been a long time since he's heard that name fall from another's lips, there's no malice in the elf-king's tone but there might as well be. Only one with ill intentions would call another by a name he'd never wanted, a name he had cast away so long ago. It's meant as an insult, he is no longer a dragon but he is no man or hobbit. To those who call him that name he is nothing. 

The last time he'd been called dragon-kin it had been to decide his fate, he hopes that this time is not a repeat of the last. 

"My lord." Bilbo mutters demurely, eyes still down. He cannot act like a fool, the elf-king is no less an enemy than any spider of mirkwood. He's worse. 

Thranduil stares at him and then says for Legolas to leave them alone, there is hesitation in his eyes but the prince leaves trying to cast him a reassuring look. Bilbo wonders if he is still so confident that his father will not harm him.

"Tell me how are you injuries faring?" Thranduil inquires and Bilbo can't help but look up almost surprised by the question before he scolds himself. What did he expect for the King to brashly question him about the company and Thorin? "When we found you they were quite severe."

"Oh?" 

"Yes, in fact I'm certain you'd be dead if my elves had not found you when they did." If it's reminder that he owes Thranduil or his elves something then it's most definitely not the most subtle of ones. 

Bilbo breaks his stare first. "I give them my thanks then for my recovery and that of my company." that may have not been the most subtle of remarks either. 

Thranduil merely smiles and Bilbo would like to say there is something sharp about it, but he can find nothing. "I shall come back tomorrow to see your health does not fail." the elf-king states and then retreats from the room, the door locking behind him. 

He blinks shocked by the sudden departure and then groans, falling back against the cursedly soft bed. "I hate elves." Only an elf would mean to draw this out, to be so content to wait as Bilbo frets about his company. He'd almost prefer being tortured then waiting in some tiny room despite Legolas' visits. 

True to his bloody word Thranduil visits the next day and the day after that, always polite and calm, looking over at Bilbo's wrapped wounds with a critical eye. By the fourth day the elf's attentions have made him antsy and Bilbo barely contains a growl in irritation even as he gets more nervous for news of the company. Legolas swears his father has no ulterior moves, only wishes to see that his 'guest' heals safely but they both know that's a lie. 

"You do realize how necessary this is, don't you? We both know my wounds are quite well healed and will stay that way." Bilbo snaps some many days later when he can no longer take the King's piercing eyes. At first he feared how long it would be before he let something of the company slipped but it had only take him a few hours to calm down and come to his senses.

There was little secrets to be had of their company and of course Thranduil would know of thier purpose, why else would the line of Durin be heading back to the Lonely Mountains after so long of time? The only question Bilbo had was why Thranduil continued this charade, why he played with him so. 

What was the point of it?

"It appears they are." Thranduil acknowledges still with that composed stare, that smugness hiding inside. He knows Bilbo is going to break under all of this worry and frustration. 

Bilbo considers it for a moment and then decides to fling politeness away, though he won't be brash like some foolish dwarf, like Thorin would be and damn it all even the thought of Thorin yelling threats at the elf-king is enough to make him feel fond. "Why are you here, my lord?"

Thranduil raises an eyebrow. "I was not aware my presence bothered you so, dragon-kin." oh the bastard was very aware of how much his presence 'bothered' him. 

He has to be careful about this, no matter how desperate he's feeling, how worried he is for Thorin--for the company he can't let his emotions take control of him. "I am nothing so special and not a dwarf so even if there were any secrets belonging to my company they would not be told to me."

"Are you saying your company has no secrets?" 

Bilbo snorts before he can help himself. "There's only one secret that could be worth knowing and we both know there's only one reason Thorin would dare go near Mirkwood." He realizes how blunt he's speaking and then hastily adds, "My lord."

Don't be short-tempered Bilbo chides himself. 

Thranduil smiles thinly. "I am aware of the dwarf-king's less than positive opinion of me but what is yours?" the question is unexpected and it leaves Bilbo in all his anger pulled up short. He's not even sure what he thinks about the elf-king. He had not killed them, had saved them in fact but that could be for his own benefit. The dwarves would not take kindly to the line of Durin being squashed out when the elf-king could have helped and wasn't Thorin related to a king? Dain?

"My lord, why would you care about my opinion?" 

"You are the dragon-kin, surely there must be something special about you." the 'or why else are you still living' is silent and unecessary but Bilbo hears it clear as day none the less. He thinks if Thranduil had been sitting with the white council on his judgement day...well perhaps he wouldn't be here now. 

"I cannot say I have formed an opinion of you either way." Bilbo says at last, words haltingly hesitant. 

In truth Bilbo knew nothing of the elf that wasn't biased. Thorin's opinion of him had been clearly stated many times on their quest and less than positive was a massive understatement. Legolas spoke of only positive things, colored by a child's loving eyes towards a parent though it was clear that Legolas disagreed with him at times. 

Thranduil's smile is still cold and there is something strange flickering in his eyes but Bilbo disregards it, the king will think whatever he will think, Bilbo's opinions be damned. He leaves soon after and as if he was waiting Legolas appears only minutes later. 

"My father came by?" Legolas says in sympathy, after the first few days he realized that Bilbo always looked so disgruntled only after his father visited. 

"Aye." Bilbo says with a bitter smile. "And I am still wandering in the dark as towards what he wants." He hates this, hates being played with like he's a mouse and Thranduil is a large cat. 

Legolas winces slightly but Bilbo comes out of his sulk to allow him to sit down next to him. "Have you any word of my friends?" 

Legolas gives him a quick grin before his face becomes cheeky as he solemnly states, "They are fairing well and the guards of the dungeon all complain about how much of nuisance they are, especially the younger ones."

"Good." Bilbo's smile becomes sweeter, fond. 

Thranduil has not treated them wrong in fact he hasn't even questioned any of them but Thorin; they are all given food and water and in some regards they are better off then they were before the elves found them but they're still trapped in a dungeon and haven't spoken to the others, to their kin in weeks. It'll be driving them all crazy Bilbo thinks, especially Kili and Fili with as close as they are. 

Bilbo sighs and then shakes his head slightly. He'll make sure they can see each other soon, somehow. He turns his attention back to the prince and starts in on a story about the time Luca Proudfoot drank so much moonshine he fell asleep in farmer Maggot (Sr)'s stable and woke up right next to the backside of a horse. Legolas laughs and shares his own story. 

Though he cannot hide his...discomfort of Thranduil, he finds that's not the case at all with Legolas. The elf is bright and eager, ready for tales of the world and is quite possibly the closest Bilbo has to a friend in this place. 

Legolas likes his tales of dragons best and seemed interested if Bilbo possessed any residual 'skills' but respectfully stopped asking after Bilbo said that regretfully no, all he'd kept was the long life span and the healing. 

"Do you think the White council would let someone who could breath fire out into the world?" Bilbo points out wryly and Legolas laughs, shaking his head. 

"If the white council thinks you are at all harmless then they are bigger fools then I thought." The elf-king's voice cuts in and Legolas catches the way Bilbo stills before his spine stands straight. Legolas clasps his friend comfortingly on the shoulder and leaves with out prompting. 

"My lord, come to torment me further?" Bilbo says before he can help himself and then decides he doesn't quite care anymore. 

For a second he'd swear that Thranduil looks almost amused but it's gone in a flash if it was ever there at all and there is only that familiar blankness. "No, dragon-kin I have only come to ask you a question and to make sure that you have not harmed yourself sometime in the night."

Bilbo flushes slightly at the jab, really how helpless do these elves think he is, and then frowns, "Well what is it then...my lord?" 

"I take it that Thorin Oakenshield has informed you of the events of so many years ago?" Bilbo blinks in confusion but quickly realizes what he's talking about. Really, there's only one thing it can be. 

"You mean when you abandoned the dwarves of Erebor?" Bilbo says coolly, some protective urge rising up in him. "I've been informed yes."

Thranduil's smile is as sharp as a sting's blade and it's gone in the blink of an eye. "Do you think I made the right decision?"

"What?"

"With your keen ears I'd think repeating myself is a waste of time, dragon-kin."

"No, I heard you well enough. I just don't understand. Why are you asking me? I've got nothing to do with it."

"Perhaps that is the point. You've been a guest here for a long time, long enough for my son to form an opinion of you and he seems to think you've picked up some wisdom in your years.

Bilbo raises an eyebrow. "Aye? Is my wisdom so valued to a king? I'm only the dragon-kin after all." Infamous for being different, for being alive when most think he should have been killed. 

If there is a plot here, and he's sure there is--he's rarely seen an elf do anything without thinking it out twice first, then he can't tell what it is. "If I answer your question will you leave me alone?"

Thranduil says nothing, only watches him, expression as unreadable as ever and Bilbo gives up, exhausted in more ways then one. Politeness has run it's end, caution too. If he's being honest then it's been a lost cause since the moment he decided on it. His feelings towards the company are too deep to play games against a man as dangerous as the elf-king could be. They make him feel too irrational, too desperate. 

"It was for the good of your people and perhaps that's what I can see that Thorin is so blind against." Thorin with all his years of grief and anger bottled up so tightly that it was wrapped around the core of him, had stained him in a way that couldn't be fixed, would never be able to understand. He'd never be able to think like an elf when a dwarf would have charged in and died with honor. Mirkwood could have give all of its best men and all of its worst but in the end there would be only more death. 

"Smaug was young then but strong, there was little you could have done but sent your men off to the slaughter." Bilbo says quietly, the words feeling strange in his mouth. "But just because it was the best decision for your people does not mean it was the right one."

"Do you think your beloved dwarf would have done the same?" Thranduils says mouth twisting into an ugly smirk, arrogance clear in his eyes and Bilbo resists snarling. "It's easy to believe such things dragon-kin when they will never happen."

"The bond between elves and dwarves wasn't so bad then. He would have done the same if asked, if it had been his decision to make." Bilbo snaps. "It seems dwarves believe in honor where elves do not!" He's not even entirely saying--because even with their honor and their pride he's never met a more foolish, stubborn bunch. 

But he knows, and Thranduil must know that the dwarves would have helped, would have at least sent some kind of aid. 

Legolas enters the room just as his father leaves, spine painstakingly stiff and without a doubt burning with cold fury, to find Bilbo sitting on the bed, hands pressed tightly against his eyes and muttering curses to himself. "Are you alright Bilbo?" he knows how much the visits with his father tire out the smaller being.

Bilbo sighs and then finally sits up. "Merely cursing my foolish tongue. I fear I have said things I shouldn't." Things he should have regretted saying but didn't. 

At Legolas' curious look Bilbo explains in a hushed tone his conversation with the elf-king. By the end of it even Legolas looks worried though he tries to hide it. "It's possible he reacted in anger only because of his own feelings." Legolas says in a strange sort of voice that makes Bilbo frown and press him for further answers. 

"You said it yours did you not my friend? It was the right decision for our people, but in the end we failed our allies. Who is to say that he himself does not feel guilty for his actions? Or at least regretful that we did not help in some way even if we did not fight."

Bilbo scoffs. 

There's a brief awkward silence for a moment and Bilbo wonders if he's overstepped but then Legolas smiles one of his cheerful grins again and starts to tell him about the upcoming celebration.

As Legolas talks of the feast Bilbo realizes it's the perfect time to somehow escape. With most of the elves at the feast or helping set up for it there will be" limited guards and presumably enough noise to cover any sounds they make, it could be hours before anyone realizes they've escaped at all. 

He resists smiling and pays more close attention to what his young friend says. 

There is three days until the feast is supposed to happen and Bilbo has nearly everything planned out which doesn't mean that he doesn't stop spending nearly every single spare moment going through the plan in his head. The only issue is how much time it'll take him to find the others though thanks to his sense of smell it shouldn't take too long. He can only hope that being delayed won't give anyone time to notice them. 

The elf-king makes one final visit the night before the feast and for one heart stopping long second he's afraid that he's somehow found out though Bilbo has told no one, not even Legolas. 

Thranduil merely looks him over and then sits in his customary chair. It's the first time he's seen him since he was asked 'the' question and if the elf had been angry then it doesn't show now. "I thought you said you'd leave me alone, my lord." Bilbo says pointedly because he can't think of much else to say, too nervous to really think. 

"We made no mention of how long that would last and it's been days dragon-kin, surely I have indeed 'left you alone'."

"I suppose so." Bilbo says grudgingly. "What is it you want of me now then, my lord?"

"Only one final question." The way he says final makes Bilbo tense but he forces himself to relax, to not tap his fingers or look away. Those are beginners mistakes. 

Bilbo bites his tongue and waits. 

He doesn't have to wait long. 

"You and I both know that the Lonely mountain is not so lonely." The elf-king reads the brief glimpse of surprise in his eyes correctly and continues on. "You've been nervous all your stay and unlike most you do not look out the window, perhaps because you are afraid of the mountain that lies ahead or the beast inside it."

"Smaug is not dead." Bilbo agrees uncomfortable the truth of it feels like it should burn him. No fires rose from the stolen king of Erebor nor any smoke but the smell of dragon was thick and spread out for miles. 

Death clung to it. 

He'd known from the beginning of the quest and he thinks Gandalf must have too or the wizard would not have always looked so grim, that it was very unlikely Smaug was dead. By all reports the dragon wasn't so old, closer to a youngling in fact than anything and he'd been strong. The dwarves it seem simply do not care--alive or dead Erebor will belong to them once again. 

It takes a lot to kill a dragon Bilbo thinks with some weary humor. 

"You think fourteen can kill what entire armies could not?" Thranduil raising an eyebrow and the weight of that stare should shake him but Bilbo has met worse things than an elf-king, faced down his death more than once to crumble so easily. 

He thinks of the company, of Thorin.

"Probably not." he admits. 

"But still you would try?"

Bilbo shrugs. "It is their home, it belongs to them as surely as my home now belongs to me. If they are willing to try to take it back what can I do but help them?"

"What is in it for you?" Thranduil says with the suspicion of someone who has lived for a very long time and seen many unpleasant things. "Though your true form is locked away does the craving for gold remain strong?"

It does. It probably always will the same way he will always long for the sky, how he'll always feel just a little uncomfortable in his body because it doesn't belong to him but that doesn't mean Thranduil has to know this. 

"They are my friends and if it makes them happy I would do all I can to insure it." It's possible he may strive more for the happiness of one specific dwarf and if so that thought belongs only to him. 

"I cannot let you leave, dragon-kin. Your company will remain here until this mad idea has left Thorin Oakenshield's thick head." Thranduil says at last, no emotion in his voice, not that there ever is. 

"You'll be stuck with him until you die then." Bilbo points out dryly. "He will never give up and why should he? If it was your people, your home would you not do the same if it belonged to you?"

"The dragon sleeps and your companions can only awaken it, there is no hope for them to win and if you were not so weighed down by your feelings for them you would see it." The elf-king looks considerate. "It's strange, I did not think such a...being like yourself would have feelings so deep for dwarves."

Bilbo refuses to look away. "I think my lord, you suspected I had no feelings at all." Some think him still a beast, some probably always will. He knows Saruman's sentiments about him haven't changed.

The lithe form of the elf-king stood to leave and Bilbo finally let his words escape him, one last warning--a gift to the elf who made him uncomfortable but had saved them. "Dragons sleep long and deeply but he will wake one day sooner or later and he will do what he has done to the dwarves to your land."

Bilbo smiled at his back. "Take my word for it, my lord. Dragons do not stop until they are dead."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1\. I'm kind of tempted to do a Thorin POV of this chapter because there's another side of their stay in Mirkwood and he has his own important interactions with Thranduil. (maybe it'll be an outtake/extra?)
> 
> 2\. I wanted to have "dragon-kin" in Sindarin but I couldn't figure out what it was and I kind of feared getting it wrong. Basically it's just the name Bilbo had in between his dragon name and before he took the name Bilbo. 
> 
> 3\. If you see any spelling errors/mistakes please tell me, I'm not using Word anymore so I can't correct my mistakes as easily.
> 
> (also I am whore-ing out my tumblr again, sorry! I love you guys and I apologize once more for how long this took.)
> 
> it's windyree.tumblr.com


	9. Of dungeons and barrels

It's almost ridiculously easy to escape now that he has a plan and it's even easier on the night of the elf-king's feast to burn away the lock on his door. He's not even going to pretend he doesn't get some satisfaction at the little pile of molten metal on the floor. The two elven guards who are usually there are gone as expected and he's so determined to leave that he almost misses the small item placed right next to the door that's somehow remained unseen by anyone passing by. Bilbo crouches down and picks up the keys quickly realizing that they must be the dungeon ones.

Affection rushes over him because there's only one person who could have done this and he wonders what Thorin would think at owing an elf much less Thranduil's son, a hand in his rescue. Involuntarily Bilbo pictures his face and has to bite down hard on his lip to stop from bursting into laughter. 

Barely holding it back he makes his way down the long hallways as noticeable as a ghost, fading seamlessly into the shadows. 

The one thing he hadn't considered was how frustrating tracking could be. The smell of earth and stone was faint, fading in places altogether before appearing randomly somewhere else. Adding to that fact was that it had been a month since the dwarves had been anywhere not in the dungeons and the trail was impossibly hard to keep following. 

Eventually he catches the scent and keeps it after what feels like hours of wasted time before making his way down towards the dungeons. Always alert for the sound of footsteps or the thud of a heartbeat. He doesn't want to hurt anyone but he's not naive enough to believe that attacking someone isn't the fastest way of keeping them quiet. 

Never has he been more grateful for his senses as he stares down at the twisted labyrinth of hallways and paths. If he was a regular hobbit there's no doubt it would take him days, maybe even weeks to find his friends. For a minute it almost overwhelms him as he gets reacquainted with his friends' familiar smells but he adjusts and moves farther into the dark. 

He finds the Ri brothers first and he laughs quietly at the scene he sees. Ori is sitting on the ground, tongue sticking out in concentration as he writes in his journal. Standing above him Dori is berating his other brother for something, Nori looking everywhere else in desperation or perhaps boredom. 

At his laugh Nori's eyes land on him and Bilbo almost freezes before remembering that he's still hidden in the shadows, he holds up a hand and stops Dori in the middle of his tirade. "Who's there?" The thief demands to know, speaking in a quiet voice but no less dangerous for it. 

Bilbo considers it and then steps forward smiling. "Is that how you great lost friends?"

"Bilbo!" Ori says excitedly in a too loud of voice and then his eyes widens and he covers his mouth. Dori just looks shocked. 

Nori raises an eyebrow. "Where have you been after all this time?"

He moves closer to the door, fiddling with the keys and trying to figure out which one belongs to this cell. It'd help if there were labels or numbers at least but of course Thranduil's guards wouldn't make it easy. "In better sleeping arrangements then you."

The door finally creaks open and the brothers quickly scramble out of the cell. "You got the keys?" Ori says in awe and even Dori gives him a respectful, grateful nod. 

Nori stares at him, something strange and suspicious in his eyes before he smirks. "It appears you're more of a burglar than we thought, aye halfling?"

Bilbo gives half the keys to Ori and instructs Nori and Dori to watch out for any oncoming guards sure that they'll be able to handle themselves even with their weapons missing. He's surprised when they agree (especially Nori) without complaint but chalks it up to him rescuing them. 

He goes down a different hallway following what sounds like angry khuzdul of course it leads to Bofur and his kin. Their reactions to him are no less entertaining than that of the Ri brothers though Bilbo feels almost bad when Bofur hugs him and then pats him companionably on the back saying they feared the worst for him; guilt creeps in.

He should have tried to find a way to escape sooner or tried to send a message through Legolas, he should have done more--no, he had his reasons for waiting and to do so when nearly all of Thranduil's kingdom wasn't busy would have been rash and irresponsible. 

"If you go that way you'll meet up with Ori, he should have a few of the others with him." Bilbo says gesturing towards the way he came from. Bombur nods and then says in a quiet voice, "Thorin should be south of that hallway over there."

"We've heard him shoutin' a few times so he's somewhere close." Bofur adds and then a mischievous smile appears on his face. "Or he's just yellin' loud enough that we can hear him, ye've got fair odds for both options really."

Tension bubbles up in his stomach as he wanders closer to where Thorin is--and he can pick out scent now and it's strange how much his stands out from the others, they're all dwarves after all. Of course Thorin would stand out, he likes being difficult and unique after all. 

Beneath the nerves is something else, some desperate need to make sure their esteemed leader is alright. The last time he saw Thorin was the night the spiders attacked and he doesn't remember seeing Thorin wrapped in spider silk. 

It's only Thorin Bilbo thinks, reassuring himself and then he's down the last hallway and even from this distance he can see a lone figure sitting in the last cell. Bilbo moves faster at the sight and he almost yelps when those damn eyes suddenly look up. It's strange now to have the heated weight of them on him for the first time in a month but it's comforting at the same time; surely if he was injured the dwarf wouldn't be looking so severe. 

"Who's there?" This isn't Nori's quiet threat but a raspy growl that is all Thorin. It is easily the single best sound he's heard in near a month.

Bilbo thinks of his teasing replies to both Nori and Bofur and then discards it. Cheekiness would feel odd right now. He decides silence is probably the best option and steps into the light. The only reason he sees Thorin's eyes widen is because he can't quite look away from his face. A strange look passes over his face, something if Thorin was anyone else Bilbo would name as desperation, someone searching for a sign of reassurance. 

"Burglar?" Thorin makes his way to his feet, moving closer to the bars of the cell and it's like some kind of spell comes over him because before he knows it Bilbo's right in front of him, close enough to touch if he leaned in just that last bit. 

"Hello." Bilbo says quitely lamely but Thorin doesn't care looking over him with a critical eye as if he can't quite believe he's here. 

Thorin laughs suddenly and there's a half-smile on his face, some of the tension leaving his frame though it's still pressed as close against the bars of the cell as he can be. "I'm relieved to find that you're alright." the dwarf admits in a low voice, never looking away. 

Bilbo's brow furrows and before he can help himself, "Why wouldn't I be?" 

The smile disappears replaced by a familiar scowl though it hasn't been directed at him in some time. "The elf." Thorin snarls out the words with a fierceness like they're poision and it'll kill him to keep it to himself. 

Thranduil? How had Thorin even known he was here? Come to speak of it how had the others known to ask the guards about him. Had they just assumed he was here or had Thranduil told them something and if so what? 

The name dragon-kin echoes around in his head and he shudders, shaking it off. If Thranduil or his men had told them anything then Thorin or his company would not be looking at him so kindly, especially not Thorin. 

Before he could give it more thought he was brought back to himself by a large hand settling on his shoulder, barely cupping his neck but enough to send warmth down his spine. Bilbo blinked and looked back up at Thorin who's gaze had become more concerned. 

"Halfling?"

He forced himself to smile and merely shook his head, "It was nothing. I was just thinking about something I found I didn't like."

They didn't know, they couldn't know. 

Thorin studies him carefully and his eyes darken until the blue looks the color of night, the hand around his neck tightens slightly but not at all to a point of pain--a comforting weight for poor Bilbo who feels so off center. 

"Perhaps I could give you more pleasant thoughts." the king murmurs and then he leans in, pulling Bilbo closer at the same time. Lips pressed firmly against his and an entirely different kind of heat came over him, soaking into his bones and making his skin feel pleasantly tingling. Bilbo instinctively scrambled closer pulling Thorin towards him, his mouth opening against the dwarf's. He'd never kissed anyone before but he learned fast, more eager when he found the taste of Thorin addictive and tried his hardest to chase him down, quickly turning the kiss bruising. 

Thorin was gracious enough to allow him and despite the dizzying sensation Bilbo found he was still aware enough to notice the feel of the dwarf-king's strong hands stroking his neck, his thumb a steady presence against his rapidly beating pulse point. 

"Bilbo? Uncle?" a voice sounding like Fili called out from the other end of the hallway. 

Oh!

Thorin pulled back first and Bilbo took the opportunity to nip at his bottom lip, snickering at the surprised look that briefly came over his face. Thorin wasn't the only one who could be sneaky Bilbo thought smugly even as he caught his breath. 

Then he realized what had just happened and his flushed redder than any of Roper Gamgee's prize tomatoes had ever been. 

"I should probably unlock your door." Bilbo glanced at Thorin and then quickly looked back down when he saw the rich amusement in his eyes, the dwarf smirking openly at him though there was nothing unkind about it. 

Thorin didn't embrace him the way Bofur and Ori had but he hardly expected him too (though to be fair he hadn't been expecting a kiss either.) Thorin wasn't much for public affections from what he knew and he couldn't help but wonder what Fili had seen if he had seen anything at all. Instead the dwarf-king touched his neck one last time, smirk widening when Bilbo's pulse jumped again and then started his way down the hallway where Fili waited. 

Bilbo followed after him and found he was walking close enough where his arm kept brushing up against Thorin's. He found he didn't mind that much at all. It was almost worth it to see the confused suspicion on Fili's face. 

"Were you two just--?" 

Thorin embraced his nephew tightly for a moment effectively cutting him off. Fili collapsed into him without another word. When he pulled back, all of Thorin's humor had been erased, only his usual seriousness visible. "Where are the others?" he asked shortly.

"Dwarves." Bilbo muttered rolling his eyes.

The rest of the company who had not seen him before greet him heartily and Bilbo is surprised to note that even Balin doesn't look so uncomfortable around him anymore. Matters turn over to escape plans which quickly turn into squabbling between them which after being separated for so long and then forced into making crucial escape plans is probably normal. 

"I know of a way out." Bilbo says when he's gained their attention some minutes later. "Follow me."

They wouldn't like it, in fact he was positive more than few of them would protest if not all of them but it was the only plan he had and they'd already wasted so much time that they couldn't afford another. 

Bilbo didn't like it when some time later the dwarves remembered their missing weapons and insisted they needed them. He understood, really he did but images of hoards of elven guards surrounding them appeared in his head. Somehow he didn't think Thranduil would be so accommodating if he caught them trying to escape. 

If Bilbo had the option of reliving one moment of their quest over and over again it would be without any question the moment the dwarves realized his escape plan involved barrels. He almost doubled over in laughter at the outrage on their faces, Fili and Kili being especially amusing because both of their mouths had dropped open in surprise. 

"Ye can't be serious laddie." Dwalin says looking deeply offended as most of them do which in Bilbo's opinion just makes the picture all the more funny. 

Bilbo raises an eyebrow. "If you see another option Master Dwarf then please by all means tell me--that goes for all of you! Otherwise get in the bloody barrels, that feast isn't going to last all night."

They grumble and complain (alot) but eventually Balin and Thorin convince them of the wisdom of following Bilbo's ingenious plan. By which he means Balin tried to convince them of the logic of it and Thorin got fed up and told them to get in the damn barrels while looking intimidating. 

It was strange how much Bilbo had missed that. 

Together Thorin and Bilbo helped the others into the barrels until at last there was only one left. Thorin looked over at him and gestured towards it.

Bilbo frowns, "Go on and get in it already." Some part of his mind is screeching about wasted time and how at some point some is going to check on the prisoners and why does Thorin have to be so disagreeable? Stubborn dwarf!

Thorin scowls back in return. "And where will you go, burglar? I'll have a better chance of holding onto a barrel and not drowing against the current."

His shoulders slump and he sighs, "I suppose you're right." he says easily in agreement. 

Thorin stares at him clearly expecting more of a fight. Bilbo gives him a sweet smile and moves ostensibly closer to the last barrel, bobbing carefully in the water. 

Just a bit further and--the last thing Bilbo sees before he closes the lid on Thorin's barrel is his shocked expression. 

Bilbo smirks at the barrel and the irritated string of khuzdul he can hear coming from within, he's most likely better off not knowing what it is. 

His ears suddenly pick up the sound of footsteps and Bilbo pushes open the gates watching to make sure all of the barrels start to go safely down the river. The door behind him bursts open and he doesn't wait, diving into the water before they can do anything. The last sight he sees before the water blurs his vision is that of an immensely amused Legolas and more than one stunned guard. 

He's never been the strongest of swimmers what with never having much need of it. As it concerns dragons and hobbits aren't fond of swiming (Except for those peculiar Brandybucks and a few squirly Tooks.) But Bilbo thinks it should be easier to get back to the surface of the water than it is. 

The river is nothing like the familiar Brandywine and his head comes above the water briefly before the river sinks it back down, not enough time to get enough air. 

He struggles against the current, feeling the start of a burn in his lungs due to the lack of air and he starts panicking, scrambling to find some way to pull himself above the icy water. It's only by chance that the current pushes him in a different direction, slamming him into a barrel. 

Bilbo's fingers claw against the wet wood and finally find purchase on the metal rim and he hoists himself up, breaking the surface and he gasps, desperate for air. The current shifts him back and forth and he keeps hoping that it won't be enough to crash into the rocks that lay on the sides of the river. 

In retrospect this is becoming a terrible plan. 

He'll never be sure how long he floated against the current all he knows is that by the end of it he's miserable and soaked to the bone, with water in his lungs and he has to cough every few minutes to try to get it out. He runs warmer then most but now his skin is covered with pinpricks of ice and he'd be shivering if he had the energy for it. 

They left Mirkwood when the moon was still high and bright, by the time the river starts to mellow out the beginnings of sunrise are coming up on the horizon. Bilbo is so tired he thinks he's somehow managed to fall asleep. 

At some point he must have because he doesn't remember seeing the shores of a town he'll know very shortly as Lake-Town. He'll wake up with his face smashed into sand and thirteen angry dwarves shouting from barrels.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1\. Legolas is a very rebellious young elf.
> 
> 2\. Roper Gamgee is actually Hobson Gamgee, Sam's grandfather.
> 
> Thanks for all the comments, kudos, general awesomeness! I'm so happy you guys like HBD. 
> 
> My tumblr is windyree.tumblr.com ; if you've got comments/concerns/questions you can reach me there!


	10. Of Taverns and Trust

They had been in Lake-Town for nearly three days before Bilbo decided that he couldn't ignore the fact that Thorin was avoiding him and had been since the moment he pulled the dwarves out of the barrels. He hadn't noticed at first, too tired and cold to care and just assuming that the dwarf's brisk attitude was because of how he'd tricked him.

He'd definitely noticed when after the Master had generously offered them rooms, with two being assigned to each, Thorin had looked at him with a strange expression on his face and then claimed Balin as a roommate even though Balin and Dwalin were already sharing a room. Adding to that he couldn't ignore how Thorin hadn't said a word to him at all but stared at him constantly, more than once he'd gone into a room only to have Thorin leave it. 

If he was more naive he'd chalk it up to regret over the kiss in the dungeon, if Thorin's feelings didn't run as deep as his then he was wise enough to back off and leave it at that. It wasn't that though, you didn't look so...dark, you didn't look so angry at someone you had kissed even if you were having second thoughts. He'd never seen anyone look so wronged and he didn't even have a damn reason why. 

Perhaps he was merely being paranoid, he wouldn't be the first to succumb to stress and let his mind find suspicious looks were there was none to be found. Maybe, Thorin was regretful about the kiss and Bilbo was too clueless to realize that. 

That idea was hastily and fully shot down by all the pitying and confused looks everyone kept giving him. 

Bilbo decided he needed to talk to someone after Dwalin of all people had given a sympathetic look and then asked what he'd done to twist Thorin up so badly. 

Hesitant to talk to Thorin--especially when he was in such a strange mood and concerned about his own reaction Bilbo decided to go to the next best source. Ordinarily he might feel a little bad about it but desperate times called for desperate measures. 

There's only one tavern that he's seen his friends frequent so far and after checking his room Bilbo heads out for it, shuddering slightly from the colder weather. At least it's not snowing yet. The tavern is packed but he spots his friend quickly enough, the lone dwarf in a bar full of humans and surrounded by whispering. It's been days and Bilbo is still surprised by how strongly everyone's reacted to the company. 

"Do you have a moment to talk?" Bilbo asks sliding into the seat across from Kili. The archer grinned at him, a warm meal in front of him. "Dinner is always better with friends." he said cheerfully and some of the anxiety in Bilbo lessened for it. 

They were silent as Bilbo struggled to phrase it and he'd just opened his mouth to speak when he was cut off. "Is this about our esteemed leader then?" Kili says prodding his chicken carefully, eyeing it with distrust. 

"What? How'd you know?" Bilbo says in surprise. Was it that obvious? Of course it was, how much more obvious could a scowling dwarf-king be?

Kili shrugged, clever fingers pulling apart his food and discarding the burned bits. "Just is I suppose, he hasn't looked that angry in ages and honestly I figured you'd ask a few days ago."

"So you do know why he's angry at me?" Bilbo says slowly, drawing out the words and resisting the urge to wince, as far as he knows he's done nothing worth wincing for and he still has enough pride that he won't feel guilty for a thing he hasn't done. 

"I wouldn't say he's angry per say but yes." He waits watching as Kili eats some more of his food before he speaks again. 

"At first when we woke up in the damned tree-eater's home we didn't notice you were missing, Thorin did though. We couldn't say anything of course. We didn't know if they were holding you somewhere else, if they'd killed you or if you'd gotten away. There wasn't a point in asking about the first two but if you had gotten away and we asked about you well...you wouldn't be free for much longer would you?"

"Right, I understand." Bilbo frowns. "I'm guessing that changed quickly?"

Kili smiles thinly, looking more serious than Bilbo's seen him in a long while. It's strange to see him so solemn when they have only a few days left before they met death head on. "Of course it did, we had the elves to deal with. A few days after we woke up they brought us into Thranduil's, well I suppose it'd be his throne room, wouldn't it? They brought us there and he started to question uncle, didn't even look at the rest of us. He kept making subtle little hints about you--how many of us were there, were all our members dwarves, and then he said he wondered how none of us had asked about our halfling, did he really mean so little to us?"

Bilbo held back a flare of irritation. Of course Thranduil had used him to anger Thorin, the elf-king would be delighted to use anything against him. But how was any of that his fault? Surely there was more to it then that. "What happened next?" He encouraged. 

"Uncle was furious of course, you're apart of the company afterall and he was pretty much insulting Thorin's protection, but he was keeping calm until Thranduil threatened you, he said he'd never had a prisoner so small before and he'd have to make sure his guards were extra gentle or you could be damaged irrevocably." Kili shook his head, disgust and anger in his eyes. "It made all of us angry if I'm being honest."

"I swear he never touched me, no one did." Bilbo says soothingly, surprised at how angry Kili looks. He'd never thought any of the company cared about him as much as he did them--it had been years since someone had looked so irritated on his behalf. "I spent the entire time stuck in a tiny room and dying of boredom but they never hurt me."

Kili relaxed, back to his joyful self. "Good. We didn't think he would but you can never be sure of elves." A sentiment that Bilbo often thought himself. "It's strange but after that he never taunted us about you, it's like he was just trying to see if we'd respond though. I think he talked to uncle though, I heard from Bofur that he'd go down there to talk to Uncle all the time though and whenever he left Uncle was always furious, always yelling."

Bilbo's heart stuttered, skipping a long beat before returning to its usual and he tried not to show the rising panic he felt, the cold flash of dread in his stomach. "Yelling what?"

Kili shrugged. "I don't know, I think you'd have to ask Uncle about that."

"Right." Bilbo says hollowly, but his mind is still stuck on Thranduil and Thorin and the thousand new terrible possibilities it brings with it. What did he tell him? He couldn't have told him. Would Thranduil have really used his biggest secret against him just to get a rise out of Thorin? Of course he would, the elf had no loyalty to him. He had no loyalty but to his people surely his behavior after Erebor was taken proved that--

"Don't look so worried." Kili cut in, unaware of all the awful thoughts he'd just interrupted though he noticed the hobbit looking a bit more pale than usual. "I know it's not your fault Uncle's ignoring you but you have to understand he's not used to caring about people who's not kin. It's probably scaring him so he's avoiding you."

"What?"

"Like I said Uncle's not used to caring about people, he's probably just freaked out by it and taking it out on you which is completely unfair of him. Give him a few more days and he'll be back to his lovable self." 

What? Of course he and Kili weren't on the same page, they weren't even in the same book. He wished he had Kili's optimism, he'd taken Thorin's feeling issues in a second if it meant avoiding what he thought it was. 

Bilbo blinked, stunned and then nodded his head. "Right, right. Few days and everything will be fine. Thank you for telling me all of this Kili." He made his way to his feet and put his jacket back on, bundling himself up for the chilly weather. 

"You don't believe me do you?" Kili says raising an eyebrow, small smile playing on his face. "I can see it on your face."

He smiled back at him unable to help it when it came to Kili. "It's not that I don't believe you, it's just hard to believe--"

"You didn't see his face, you didn't see how angry he was when Thranduil mentioned your name. When he threatened you I thought he was going to lunge across the floor and kill him, guards be damned."

The young and the hopeful saw things differently then people as old and tired as Bilbo did, the world wasn't quite so bright or colorful. Kili had the qualities of being both young and hopeful and while in most cases Bilbo would applaud that talent, he couldn't. Not with this, not when he was so completely wrong. 

"Goodbye Kili." Bilbo says instead of any of all the angry, panicky words he wants to say. It wouldn't be fair to direct that on poor Kili. 

"I'll see you later?" Kili says phrasing it like a question, concern in his eager eyes and Bilbo nods his head once and leaves before he can say 'If Thorin doesn't kill or banish me first.'

He knows where Thorin is--back at the Master's home but instead he makes his way towards the edge of town, towards long hills that remind of the Shire only it's not nearly as beautiful. It lacks the vivid green, it lacks the sweet smell and even this far away from the mountain the grass is new, still dry from years of dead burnt grass on top of it. 

Seeing it Bilbo is reminded that Smaug attacked more than the dwarves that day. It's strange how he never noticed that signs of a dragon linger long after the dragon itself has attacked. Even as Smaug sleeps, the smell of smoke and dragon stick to the mountain and nearby towns, clings to the river, the death-scent is still clear in the ground. 

And they'll be facing the cause of all that soon, within a week according to Balin. Bilbo snorts, shaking his head. 

"I travel with fools who think they can steal a dragon's toy." He says in great amusement to himself. "Or am I a bigger fool for traveling with them regardless?" Somewhere with the Green Lady, Belladonna Baggins was cackling at him, he could hear it now. 

Bilbo sat down at the top of a hill near by town and let himself relax, forcing his thoughts to stop. He couldn't control whatever happened with Thorin, whatever would be would happen and there was no use making himself sick panicking about it. 

Absently sometime later when his mind was more calm and lazy he started to entertain himself by tracking the heartbeat of a field mouse in a nearby nest. He wasn't going to hurt it but he did consider catching it for fun. He certainly had the speed, the skill for it now. 

Before he could consider it in greater detail he heard the sound of someone behind him and he turned, eyes tracing the thick grass. "Who's there?" he called out and listened closer. Only one heartbeat. Kili? No, it didn't smell like him. It smelt different than that, less of stone and more of air and sweat. Human then. 

"Don't make me ask again." He says in a much less friendly tone when he heard no answer. 

A man stepped through the grass, he looked vaguely familiar with dark hair and eyes and a grim countenance though to be fair nearly all humans looked similar to him. He hadn't spent enough time around them for them not to. 

The man looked surprised and then nodded respectfully at him. "You're that halfling? The one traveling with the dwarves."

"Hobbit." He corrected with a scowl. "I am not half of anything." Normally he'd let the name go, after all how many times had he been called a halfling? But he was in a foul mood and his nerves were all but spread thin. 

The stern looking man nodded again and still Bilbo had the feeling that he'd met him before. "Hobbit then, my mistake. I've never met a hobbit before."

Bilbo sighed. "That's not surprising, we're not much of wanderers anymore. But yes, the dwarves you mentioned are my friends." Though for how much longer he could not say. "My name is Bilbo Baggins."

"I am Bard." He said in return. Bilbo looked at him closer and noticed the bow casually slung on his back and realization struck him. 

"You're the bowman! I remember you now." Not all of Lake-town was pleased with their arrival, Bard being the most vocal and grave about it. He'd been angry as he exclaimed how they would wake the dragon and doom them all. 

He frowned. "Were you hunting? I didn't mean to interrupt you."

"It's fine, master Baggins. I can always hunt later or tomorrow." 

Bilbo studied him and in the end was not sure what he found that prompted him to say, "He'd wake up anyways." 

Bard's eyes narrowed, "What?"

"Smaug, I mean. He's not dead, just sleeping and he'll wake up no matter what." Bilbo says quietly, a plan coming to his mind as quick as dragonfire. "He'll go after Lake-Town eventually, maybe not while you're alive or your children but he will. Burn it straight to the ground as he did Dale."

"And you know so much about dragons that you can tell their mind, little one?" Bard says curiously, suspiciously and Bilbo can't deny that. He'd be suspicious too if someone was trying to endanger his home and then offer him advice at the same time. 

Bilbo smiled grimly at him, "I know quite a good deal about dragons. It's why I'm trying to help you."

Bard sighed. "How can you help me? When your dwarves are set on destroying my home for a folly of a fool's dream?"

"You men don't know much about dragons aside from the tales your mothers tell you as nightmares, horror stories. Dragons are quick and strong but they have a weakness. Their scales are tough but can be pierced." Bilbo watched closely, making sure that Bard was listening before continuing. "Young dragons after they gather their hoard will reinforce their scales, they'll sleep in a bed of the toughest jewels of the finest gold and after many years it will harden and become like their skin."

"How does this help me?" Bard said and Bilbo was grateful that he was listening at all. Perhaps not all the Big-Folk were so damn bad. 

"Smaug isn't too old--a few centuries but barely. There's a chance he could still have patches free of his metal armor and if you strike him there then you can kill him." Bilbo smiled at him, pointedly looking at the quiver strapped to his back. "I have heard that you are a fine archer, the best among men as far as I've been told. If we fail in stopping the dragon then I think there's a chance you could."

The man was quiet, too quiet and Bilbo feared he would discard everything he had said but then,"Why have you told me all this?"

Bilbo stood, brushing the stray pieces of grass off of his clothes. "You don't deserve to have your home burned to the ground a second time." especially not if it was his company's fault. 

"I have never seen Dale, no man in Lake-Town has." Bard replied and Bilbo almost smiled as he made his way back down the little hill, the Lonely mountain looming like an omen behind him. 

"Just because you have never seen it does not mean it's not your home."

At least he'd done some good in the end if Thorin did kill him. With that happy thought Bilbo decided there was no use putting it off any longer, it was time to confront Thorin. He didn't seen any of the company lingering in the Master's room so he assumed they were either out at the tavern or in their rooms. 

Bilbo stood in front of Thorin's door, hand poised to knock and he found he couldn't will himself to, his hand frozen in the air for minutes before he finally could move. 

How cold one knock sound so ominous? So final?

He could hear a heartbeat--slow and steady so he pushed open the door. Thorin sat on the edge of bed, cleaning his sword of course. He didn't look up when Bilbo came to stand near the bed. "Can I talk to you?" 

"I'm not in the mood for talking, halfling and you wouldn't like any words of mine now."

Bilbo moved closer, unable to look away from the blade. "I don't care, I need to talk to you." 

Thorin did look up, eyes dark and simmering with deadly anger. He stood, throwing his sword on the bed. "Do you then? Let's talk."

"What did Thranduil say to you?" Bilbo asked. "What did he tell you?" There was no use waiting, best to blunt. 

"Why does it matter?" Thorin said smirking, biting clear in his tone. There was a coldness about him, so devoid of any warmth or affection that it felt as stinging as a slap to look at him. "Unless what he said is true."

"What did he say to you?" He said more sharply. "Tell me what he said!"

Thorin's back was tense, straight as a the length of sword and possessing all of the danger. He looked furious and Bilbo thought he should move away but he didn't, wouldn't. "So it is true." he said darkly. "You are a monster? a worm like Smaug?"

"I am nothing like Smaug!" He snapped. "Smaug is a killer, a greedy arrogant fool, a--"

"Dragon like you?" 

Bilbo bit back a snarl. Control your temper you fool. "I was once. I am what I am now."

The dwarf-king moved closer, moving so quickly that it stunned Bilbo. He wondered if Thorin would hit him. "You admit it then. You have betrayed this company, betrayed our trusts!" 

He glowered at him, unable to control how angry he felt, how hurt by his accusations. He'd lied but he had not betrayed them, not even at the beginning when they had doubted him. 

This wasn't supposed to happen. No one was supposed to find out, especially not Thorin. "What was I supposed to do? Would you have accepted me if I'd told you the truth? You disregarded me when you thought I was useless and fussy hobbit, how would you react if I said I was a dragon? Would you wait one night to kill me or two?"

"If I had known what you were then I never would have stepped through your door." Thorin scoffed with so much malice. 

Bilbo growled quietly unable to help himself. Thorin's eyes narrowed more at it, becoming blank. "What do you want me to say? I'm not sorry for my actions and I cannot take them back."

Thorin exploded, stepping closer again even though there was no space. "Your actions? This isn't about your actions! This is about you being what you are! This is about you being an honorless, beast!"

"Do you think I chose this? Do you think I honestly chose any of this?" Bilbo snarled. He wondered if his eyes were gold, would Thorin fear it or merely take it as another sign that he was a beast?"To be cast down so small? To be helpless? No, Master Dwarf this was chosen for me and I am tired of being blamed for a decision I never made!"

This was worse than the white council. He knew his options then, either he'd live or die. He didn't know what would happen now. He didn't care what would happen now. Not when he felt so angry. He'd never expected Thorin to act so harshly especially when Balin had been so accepting in comparison. 

"Will you kill me then?" Bilbo said out loud and Thorin was silent, shaking with black rage and hands balled into tight fists. "Do you think you can? If I am so evil as you say then surely I could kill you easily, king or no king."

"You dare threaten me, worm?" Thorin snarled back. 

Bilbo laughed, short and humorless and he was suddenly so tired, so very tired. "Of course not, my king. Unlike you I don't threaten my friends."

Thorin looked over him and for a second Bilbo thought he would be kind, he'd forgotten he was dealing with a dwarf. "You are no friend of mine." he said quietly, dismissively but he didn't have to be loud for his words to have impact. 

Bilbo lowered his eyes and moved back, aware of how Thorin watched him like he was some kind of wild animal poised to attack the second he looked away. "You may not be my friend but I am yours, why else would I have saved your life and your companions' twice over now?"

"I cannot say for I do not know the workings of greedy beasts." Thorin said back coldly. 

He shook his head and turned to leave stopped by a hand grabbing tightly onto his shoulder and pushing him back until his head slammed against the wall. "What do you want now?" Bilbo hissed moving his head slightly so Thorin's arm wasn't digging into his throat. "Do you want to kill me now? Shall I help you, my king?" he tilted his head slightly, showing the expanse of his throat eyes daring even as Thorin's looked unreadable. 

"Until I've decided what to do with you, you will not leave this place." Thorin said, face suddenly blank and perhaps that was more terrible then the anger Bilbo had faced so far. "If you do I will hunt you down and kill you."

Bilbo looked him in the eye but he could see no lie, only harsh truth so he nodded once. "Whatever pleases you, my king."

Thorin pulled his arm away and Bilbo jerked out of his grip and stormed out of the room. He didn't stop until he was safe in his own room with the door locked. 

'It appears I'm the bigger fool after all.' Bilbo thought with a heavy heart, and fire still in his veins.


	11. Of decisions

Bilbo slept very little that night if he even slept at all, his mind running around in continous circles about his fight with Thorin. What could he have done differently? Was there anything he could have said to make Thorin less angry? He knew he should have controlled his temper better, should not have been so defensive when he knew Thorin would be furious from the moment his secret was revealed. 

But to have someone you thought fondly of, to have someone who saved your life and you saved theirs in return call you a beast, a monster, to claim that you had betrayed them when you were only trying to survive, trying to keep things as they were. It hurt and hurt had always made him lash out, some leftover dragon instinct of trying to get rid of the thing that caused him so much pain. 

No, he decided Thorin would have reacted the same no matter what Bilbo had done or said. When a dwarf made up their mind they were unmoving as the stone they supposedly came from.

Feeling restless and despite Thorin's warning Bilbo opened the window and slipped outside, making his way up the ledges to the roof. If he was correct then Thorin would tell the others tomorrow and his fate would surely be decided. If it came to that then Bilbo didn't want the last thing he saw to be a gaudily decorated room. The others didn't notice his disappearance not even Dwalin who was Bilbo's roommate for the time being, who most likely would have a room to himself by morning.

During the day Lake-town represented all the alienness Bilbo saw in the Big-Folk's cities. There were so many of them, constantly moving and he could barely understand it, never feeling the urge to rush like the Men did. But before morning broke, before then silent and still Lake-town could easily be his Shire. The start of the mountain's slope could be his hills and the forest lingering to the side was no longer Mirkwood but his own. Staring at it all and trying not to think of the morning Bilbo had never before been struck by such a feeling of homesickness.

Strange despite the trolls, despite the orcs, despite the bloody dragon Bilbo had never once thought he wouldn't return to it. How ironic was it that the blasted dwarves were going to be his downfall?

Bilbo sighed, the sound loud in the chilly air. The Thain would be displeased, would probably even find a way to bring him back only to kill him again. The one time he left its boarders for more than a few days, for a place farther than Rivendell and he was going to return home dead.

He imagined Prim's sad eyes, imagined Paladin and his sisters' looking upset and thought himself more a fool for it all.

What had he even come here for? Thinking now and Bilbo couldn't bring himself to remember why he'd left. Whatever...whoever it had been for certainly hadn't been worth it.

"If I survive this, survive Smaug then I shall want nothing more than to return home. Treasure and dwarves and wizards be damned." He said out loud but it felt little more than wishful thinking.

If, if, if.

He was tired of his life being decided on the what if's of other people. He was no toy, no puppet to be played. He was a dragon! Or at least he had been once, long ago. Dragons were not cowards. Among their many flaws, greed the greatest of them, at least they could claim there had never been a cowardly dragon. And if tomorrow was his last day, if this was his last sunrise then Bilbo would meet it with his head held high, eyes proud, even if the day was cut short by Thorin's blade or Dwalin's axe. 

Even the first time he died he had never begged for his life, he'd wanted an honorable death to the end and Bilbo the hobbit was no different in that regard than Bilbo the former dragon. Thinking so Bilbo crept silently back into his room cursing the small flicker of fondness and amusement he felt at hearing Dwalin snore loudly. 

Bilbo could pin down the exact moment Thorin told the others because the previously noisy company, heard even from Bilbo's room some floors above had fallen deathly silent. If he concentrated Bilbo knew he'd be able to hear them but he chose not to, what was the point when he'd hear every accusation repeated again shortly?

He spent what he assumed would be his last few moments writing out a set of letters even as he heard the dwarves break out into a burst of chatter downstairs. The first was to the Thain and said shortly that his death was his own doing and the dwarves were at no fault (he was hoping he could convince Balin to lie about it, say Bilbo had caught some illness or had been felled down by a wound in battle and died from infection, yes that sounded decent enough.) Among other details Bilbo requested to be buried in the Shire, a request that he thought more than a few would find strange but well, he'd been a hobbit longer than he'd ever been a dragon. Towards the end he added at the bottom that Bag End was meant for Fosco and his family but all his possessions were to go to the Tooks, Sackville-Baggins be damned. 

Though Bilbo had been fond of his Baggins', had even taken their last name it was a surprise to no one that their guardian had loved the Tooks best and most fiercely. For who else among them could match the heat of a dragon's heart? More than one hobbit still remembered how besotted he'd been with wild fearless Belladonna and then later more reserved Bungo. 

Besides Bilbo mused setting aside that letter, he'd kill to see the outrage on Lobelia Sackville-Baggins' and her husband's face. 

The next letter was addressed to Primula, asking if she'd please take Belladonna's things and if she did not desire them then to make sure they found a good home. Also, he added with a mischief grin, to go on an adventure like all entirely unrespectable hobbits should do. 

His grin faded away as he stared down soberly at the last letter. It was addressed to his first friend, the one who'd given him a chance he'd never wanted but had come to value more than anything and Bilbo wondered if his death would pain Gandalf greatly or even at all. They'd been friends for centuries but even now Bilbo would never claim to understand the ways of wizards, only that they were trouble. 

This letter was different, not an arrangement of his final affairs but a letter of thanks that Bilbo had never been able to describe verbally to anyone. How did you thank someone for your life without it falling flat? 

He had just neatly folded Gandalf's letter and set it with the others when there was a knock on his door. Bilbo frozen for a moment, heart lurching still and then steeled himself, rising to his feet and opening the door with only a slightly unsteady hand. 

_I am a dragon Bilbo thought, I will not bow to anyone. ___

____

Balin greeted him on the other side. The older dwarf's face unusually solemn. "The company would like you to come downstairs, lad." Bilbo nodded, once, twice and then paused rushing back to the desk to grab his letters. 

"Can I trust you to send these for me?" He said quietly avoiding the flash of pity he thought he saw. 

"Please." he said somewhat desperately when he thought Balin would refuse, mouth open to protest. "They're just--they're to the Shire."

Balin studied him and then nodded. "Of course." he said kindly and then took the letters, tucking it away safely. 

Without another word between them Bilbo was led downstairs and he remembered his promise to himself and kept his head high even when he walked in and found the rest of the company staring at him. 

Some of them--Gloin, Dori, Bombur, even dear Bofur looked away quickly not meeting his eyes while others like Fili and Kili held his gaze longer. At last only two dwarves were staring at him and even Balin's blank gaze felt like a threat. There was nothing else to say about Thorin, the black heat of Thorin's rage, the way his mouth was twisted into a line of distaste said it all. 

"My king." Bilbo said quietly, and forced himself not to flinch when he met Thorin's eyes. Clearly the night had not quelled his anger. 

Thorin did not seem to be looking at him but looking through him, like Bilbo wasn't worth the effort. Well, of course he wasn't, he was a monster after all. "Dragon, you've been brought forth with betraying this company."

Bilbo jerked back like he'd been struck. "I have not betrayed this company." he snapped out harshly before he could help himself and then forced himself to calm down when the company started. 

"Bilbo, your eyes." Ori stuttered out, shocked. 

"I have not betrayed this company, it has never been my intention to betray you, any of you." He said more calm but he thought the damage was done, he claimed to not be a beast and then lashed out like one the second Thorin said something hurtful. 

If it had been anyone other than Thorin he thought it wouldn't get under his skin so easily. 

Thorin's low voice became more biting as he continued, practically a growl that would have made a lesser man shake. "You've betrayed our loyalties and took advantage of our trusts, my trust. You've taken us as fools, deceived us from the start."

"What would you have done if you were me?" Bilbo demanded of him, determined not to have another outburst, to keep the anger and hurt he felt swirling around tightly to himself. "If your closest friend had came to you and asked that you go on this journey, even at risk to yourself?"

"You've committed a grievous offense and I do not easily forgive." Thorin said and some of that dark fury was gone, not faded but hidden away into the tightness of his shoulders, the unmoving of his expression. Without it Bilbo could see nothing but brutality in his eyes and he thought his heart was beating loud enough for the entire company to hear. 

"My King." was all Bilbo could say, the only words that could keep away his desperate pleas for understanding. 

"This company has no need of a burglar we cannot trust." The rumble of Thorin's words had been comforting once but now they felt what they were; a death sentence. "Who is to say if you would not betray us to Smaug or try to kill us in our sleep for gold?"

Bilbo's throat burned--from Thorin's terrible insinuations, from holding back his stinging words, from holding back dragonfire--whatever the cause it burned regardless and he could not speak, could only shake his head frantically. 

"Do you have anything to say, dragon?" Thorin snarled and somehow falling from his lips dragon seemed a worse name then monster or beast ever could be, a more dreadful moniker than dragon-kin had ever been. 

"I saved your life once." Bilbo said quietly, pushing away his dry throat at last. "I saved your company from the spiders and I helped you escape from the elves."

Thorin raised an eyebrow, face cold and harsh and it did not matter that he was feet away, when it felt like he could strike Bilbo down from here. "Is this what dragons do? They bargain for their life instead of facing down punishment admirably? No, I should have known, none of your kind have honor, why should you be any different."

Bilbo's eyes hardened, gold and sharp evident to all and he heard someone breathe out in fear for a second, the smell of it second to the bitter anger clouding the room. Dragons did not beg, not from the earth's children when they belonged so fully to the sky. "No, my King. I only mention it to show that I have never betrayed you, never even thought of it."

Thorin's jaw tightened at his words and before he could say his sentence, someone else spoke for the first time since Bilbo had stepped in the room. "Thorin, I know he has betrayed us but he speaks some truth." Balin said, not even looking at Bilbo but at his friend. "He has saved our lives at least twice now, it's bad luck to kill a man with a debt not repaid."

"Who knows how many over times he has betrayed us?" Thorin replied hotly in return. 

"We cannot afford a new burglar this far in our quest." Balin said evenly. "Our original reasons for needing him remain the same. If you desire to punish him then can it not wait until we have reclaimed Erebor?"

Thorin looked searchingly at Balin and then back at Bilbo. He refused to look away, willing his eyes to show his determination. Keep him, kill him, he would not beg and he would not back down. 

"Thorin--" Balin started again but the dwarf-king held up a hand and he fell silent. 

"I have decided to allow you to live for now, in return you forfeit your share of the treasure." Thorin said, face blank and Bilbo's heart started beating again, relieved despite himself but Thorin's next words sullied some of his joy. "If you try to run away, you will be killed. If you betray us once more you will be killed."

"I'm not going anywhere." Bilbo said daringly. 

Thorin looked at him one last time and then shook his head in disgust. After some hesitation the rest of the company followed him with only Balin remaining. 

Bilbo sighed and sat down on the closest chair, rubbing his face tiredly. "I owe you my thanks." he said, the words muffled. 

It was no doubt more accurate to say that he owed Balin his life. 

Balin nodded once, looking uncomfortable as he passed Bilbo's letters back to him. "I should go see if I can calm them down anymore, no doubt they have questions." 

"He was really going to kill me, wasn't he?" Bilbo asked before he left, unable to help himself. 

The old dwarf didn't look back at him but his spine was stiff straight and there was a tightness to the shape of it that hadn't been there a moment ago. "Just be thankful Master Baggins that he did not."

Despite himself Bilbo's fingers shook pressed against his face and a terrible feeling of dread remained. Thorin had allowed him to live but this was far from over, far from being settled even in the wake of Smaug's shadow. 

No, Bilbo thought feeling more tired than he had all morning, this is only the beginning.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this took a bit of time, my wrists have been acting kind of funky so I haven't be able to write lately. I know this part is shorter than usual but there will be another update within the next couple days. 
> 
> 1\. Fosco is the father of Drogo and I figured Bag End would go more towards the remaining main line of the Baggins family than towards say the Sackville-Baggins. 
> 
> 2\. I know some people might be angry at Thorin but our point of view is limited to Bilbo so we don't get his side of things. 
> 
> I'm over at windyree.tumblr.com if you want to yell at me :p


	12. Of Changes and Clan Ri

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I can't believe I fucking deleted the chapter on accident. I am so sorry guys.

Bilbo took his things out of the room he shared with Dwalin and spent the rest of his time sleeping on the roof. Sleep mattered little to him and he needed less than most. After he the third time the company went quiet when he walked into a room, no one even daring to look at him, he spent the rest of his time outside too enjoying the fresh air more than the awkward silence.

He wasn't sure what to make of their reactions, no one had outright said something against him but they hadn't confronted him either. If he had to place a bet then he'd say they were confused, but who knew where that confusion would settle into? Still it stung, this coldness when only days before he'd had their friendship in his grasp. 

The most damning had to be Kili and Fili who had come to a mutual decision to ignore him; the first few days they had only just left any room he came in but now they avoided him so much that he hadn't seen them in days, not even around a corner or by accident. The one time he had run across them they had looked at him as if he wasn't even there, as if they could see straight through him and they'd knocked into his shoulders as they brushed past him, going on without saying anything. 

It wasn't surprising, not really. They were Thorin's kin and his heirs at that, where else could their loyalties lie but with him? When he thought about it he realized most of the company was related to the Line of Durin in someway or another and only shook his head, resigned. 

So Bilbo did the only thing he could and adapted the way he always had. He avoided the dwarves as much as they avoided him and he said little if anything at all. The one concession he would not make concerned Thorin. He would keep his distance but he would not look away, not give first. Bilbo had done nothing wrong, had not betrayed them and he would not act like it especially to that stubborn dwarf. 

He slept outside and ate outside and though it was lonely, almost painfully it was not terrible.He'd done this before for many years when his Hobbits had undergone the Wandering Days--years and years spent travelling and surviving and really this wasn't so bad, a few days longer. 

He was not completely alone however. The people of Lake-town were friendly enough after they had gotten used to him and though many of them had never seen a hobbit at all and had at first assumed he was simply a very strange dwarf. 

Bilbo spent most of his time out and about and though he wasn't surprised to see Bard it was suspicious how often he'd run into the man until he realized it was probably on purpose. He couldn't think of a reason why Bard would be so interested in speaking with him but considering the limited company he had he did not shy from it. 

From that point on Bilbo often spoke with Bard, finding to his astonishment that the man was good company if a bit on the serious side--he hadn't seen the man smile once. Bilbo's surprise deepened when after a few meetings Bard asked him if he was alright. Bilbo had recovered and said he'd fallen into a quarrel with his friends but it was only a little thing. 

"Dwarves are stubborn." He said with faux cheer, taking a sip of his drink. "And I find I am unusually stubborn for a hobbit." That particular dwarf often made him more stubborn, more prone to temper and Bilbo hated the loss of control as much as he relished how much he had enjoyed squabbling with Thorin. But that had been different, much more lighthearted than this grip of anger hanging over them, suffocating them. 

Bard had looked unconvinced but was wise enough to say nothing else about the subject only adding that he was there if Bilbo needed him. 

The company was nice but nothing to compared to the closeness from the dwarves, from the familiarity of his hobbits and at that moment, restless and waiting Bilbo just wanted to be done with the whole thing and go home. 

He'd always been like that though; impatient when angry, restless with heat tracing his bones and no way to get rid of it. Something about anger made it easier for him to feel like his true self, it loosened his control and Bilbo hated it but he couldn't help it. If he let it get to him then it made the arrogant parts of him become louder than the senselessness, it made him think what if, made him think stupid things, dangerous things. If it made him the monster that Thorin claimed he was then Bilbo wouldn't deny it. Denial was foolish, and pointless, so he'd accepted his flaws. Accepted the occasional anger, the pride and the greed and he had not let it rule him. 

That was the part Bilbo had always told himself to remember. He had never let it beat him. 

Back in the Shire he'd walk, miles and miles until he felt like he could breathe again, the smells and sounds and sights of his hobbits surrounding him. They helped ground him, remind him that he wasn't that person anymore. He had a purpose worth more than something as vile as greed, as tainting as anger. 

He couldn't walk now, the lands were unfamiliar and who knew if that damned dwarf-king would take it as a sign of him running away if he stepped out of town but there were always other ways to fix his problem. He left at dawn, before anyone--even early rising Oin woke up and headed for the nearest hill, the same one on which he'd met Bard by chance. 

Bilbo smiled and thought about how furious he was, how hurt he was that Thorin's trust, the company's trust in him had broken so easily, so quickly and lashed out with his fist snapping a stocky tree in half, it fell clattering to the ground and something in his chest relaxed, the fire receding just a little bit. Something dangerous in his head purred at the violence but Bilbo ignored it and focused on hitting the next tree, the wood smashing into pieces. 

By the time he returned when the sun was high and the town was bustling with people, more than a few trees had been destroyed but the heat was gone and Bilbo felt as close to normal as he thought he could get.

It would have to do. 

The house would most likely be empty, with the dwarves either still in their rooms or gone off somewhere in town and Bilbo crept in to get some food, smiling politely at the servants. He didn't think he'd ever get used to that. Half the shire would sniff in disdain at the lack of propriety, what kind of host didn't serve his own guests? Certainly not a good one. 

"Bilbo?"

Or not, clearly today was just not meant for him. Bilbo turned, clutching his lunch of fried bread and meat like he thought they'd steal it. Ori stood behind him, looking nervous but determination clear in his eyes. 

"Yes Ori?" He said and then inwardly cursed himself for the wariness even he could hear in his tone. 

"Can I talk to you somewhere in private?" Ori asked politely but still firm. 

Bilbo raised an eyebrow. "Are you sure your brother would appreciate that?" Dori had been one of the first to start avoiding him and somehow despite how kind he dwarf had been he couldn't see him going against what Thorin said, the truth of what Bilbo was. 

Ori shrugged looking uneasy only for a moment. "I'm an adult now, I can make my own decisions about who my friends are and my brothers will just have to accept that." Neither of them brought up that as Head of the Ri Clan it was fully possibly for Dori to have such a say in his brother's life. 

Instead he laughed quietly, not unkindly and nodded his head some part of him undeniably pleased at interacting with one of his former friends. It still didn't mean anything he reminded himself, squashing down whatever hopeful feelings were blooming up. People were unpredictable from dwarves to even his hobbits.Look at the Tooks for instance, he swore they were wilder then men and more stubborn than any dwarf he'd met so far. 

"Lead the way then." Bilbo said and followed after him. They ended up outside near a tall tree and where Ori sat down somewhat gracefully Bilbo allowed himself to sprawl out, happy to feel the sun against his skin. 

Ori looked amused mouth quirking up into a small smile. "You remind me of a house cat more than a dragon."

Bilbo shrugged lazily, "And yet I am a dragon."

"And yet you are." Ori agreed quietly, his good humor fading back away into that nervous determination. 

He closed his eyes and waited, content to let his friend take his time. It could have been only a few minutes or an hour before he spoke again. "How?"

Bilbo sat up and stared at him, eyes gold and bright. "How what?" he said gently when Ori seemed stunned by his eyes though he'd seen them before. 

"It's just that I didn't think dragons could shapeshift, I've never heard of it before." Ori admitted. 

"They can't, as far as I know whatever magic my kin possess it's not that and even if they could I doubt they would, it's terribly uncomfortable to be outside of your skin." Bilbo said thinking of the first few years after he'd become this, how itchy his skin had felt, the wrongness of it all. He'd been even desperate enough to send a letter to Gandalf for help, but the wizard had regretfully informed him that he would just have to get used to it and it would disappear with time. 

 

Ori looked considerate but mostly curious in a way only the young truly could. Bilbo smiled at him and then shook his head. "We're just going to go in circles, I can explain it to you if you want?"

"Please?"

"Dragons weren't made the way everything else was. You were made by Aule while Men and Elves are the Children of Illuvatar. But Dragons? We were made from a man out of fire and magic and we were whatever he wanted, whatever we needed to be."

Ori kept silent looking thoughtful and Bilbo took that as a sign to continue. "There are many types of my kin, each different and deadly. My kin, the winged-dragons, the ones so feared came about during a battle where I fell. I'll spare you the boring details but we lost and I got injured by an elven arrow, strong enough to crack through my scales. Somehow I survived it even though it was stuck in my mouth and it caused a terrible pain."

"What happened next?"

Bilbo's smile was wry. "The leader of us was called Ancalagon, some say the greatest of my kin and when he fell we fled, if we hadn't then perhaps my kind would have died out there and Smaug would be nothing but a fairy tale. The elves and men were determined to get as many of us as they could and they shot at us until the very moment we disappeared from the sky, I got hit by another arrow and I fell."

"I thought I would die and I was fine with that, I had fought honorably enough after all. Instead I woke up some days later. I couldn't move and because the arrows were still in me I couldn't heal, I was stuck slowly wasting away." he frowned, rarely did he think about the time that had led up to Gandalf finding him. It was still a miserable memory even this many years past. 

"But you didn't waste away, did you?" Ori said cleverly and Bilbo's smile turned more sincere. 

"No, I didn't but it was a close thing. Many days past and it was close to a month when he found me and I was more dead than alive, hanging by the tenacity of my kind." 

"He?"

Mischief danced in gold eyes. "Why, Gandalf of course." Ori's eyes widened and his mouth dropped open in shock but Bilbo smirked and shook his head, continuing on. 

"I woke up one day and there he was--this tall and old looking man. I looked at him and I would have thought him weak if the magic had not burned so clearly off of his skin. I snapped at him and tried to struggle to my feet but I fell again. I asked him what he wanted and he only looked at me with these infuriating eyes. I said it again and said if he did not answer I would eat the flesh from his bones."

"What did he do?" Ori asked curiously. 

Bilbo laughed loud and mirthful, "He looked me up and down and said he doubted I'd be much up to eating anyone. It made me furious, of course and I tried to ignore him after that but he kept talking to me, saying such odd things." He would share much but he doubted he'd ever tell anyone all of what Gandalf had said to him. Some things were best left kept as secrets. "I felt myself growing weaker and weaker and one day.

Ori looked concerned, caught up in the tale as if it was happening now and not thousand of years in the past. "What happened, Bilbo?"

"And one day I asked him to kill me." Bilbo continued on softly. "I told him I wanted an honorable death and what was more honorable for one of my kind then dying by the hands of one of the Istari, it was better than fading away by an arrow."

He could still remember Gandalf's eyes on him, the quiet concern as his breathing grew more labored and then shallower by the hour. You could have more than an honorable death, he had said, you could have an honorable life. 

Bilbo had looked at him through lidded eyes, so tiny in comparison, smaller than one of his claws and said he doubted there was anything worthy for the likes of him. Kill me please he had said, begged for it. 

"I fell asleep while we were arguing, he refused to kill me of course--the old fool and when I woke up I was like this." Bilbo shrugged gesturing at himself. He'd woken up and the world had instantly felt wrong as if all air had been taken away and every color had fled from him leaving him in a grey hold. 

What did you do to me? Bilbo had snarled out and then immediately winced, hands--not his, never his, coming up to clutch at his throat and the wizard had remained silent, eyes full of pity for his state. 

It hurt to walk, unused to the lack of two legs and though he could speak it well enough it hurt to talk, his throat used to harsher sounds, a larger mouth. He was cold all the time for the first week--body trying to figure out where all his fire had gone. He spent days falling and stumbling and struggling with a body that screamed it wasn't his. 

He'd looked at Gandalf with accusing eyes and refused to speak to him for the rest of the journey to Imladris. 

"Gandalf turned you into this?" Ori said in surprise and Bilbo thought perhaps awe. He didn't blame him, the magic to turn a dragon of all things into something so insignificant was impressive. 

"Yes and afterwards we traveled to Imladris and the White Council tasked me with guarding the hobbits of the Shire and that's where I remained until your company and your king knocked on my door." 

That was quite possibly the biggest understatement he'd ever heard. For one even he wasn't sure if it had been Gandalf or some other power. Even the Istari couldn't make a thing change its shape so completely that it could never be undone, could it? Change it and bring it back from death because Bilbo had felt himself die on that day long ago. 

Even after all that there were the months that it took to make it to Imladris, the way Bilbo had clung to his hatred because it was all he had left. He had hated Gandalf, wanted him dead for what he had done to him but the fool of a wizard hadn't cared. 

And then they had arrived at Imladris, as lovely as it was now and Bilbo had felt something new. 

Fear. 

"Bilbo?"

"Hmm?" He said absently, realizing he'd crept farther back in his memories then he had intended. Sometimes it seemed when you started something it wasn't easily stopped. 

"What did you look like? As a dragon I mean?" Ori said and Bilbo would have thought the question sudden if he hadn't seen the concern in his eyes, clearly his reminiscence had been noticed. 

Bilbo took the change of subject gratefully. "My kind was the first of the great winged dragons and though I was slender and sleek then, I imagine I was easily twice as large as Smaug."

"Really?" Ori said in surprise. 

He nodded. "The old dragons, the last of the great ones were much bigger than the ones that remain. Smaug might be one of the last great dragons of this age but he's little compared to Ancalagon the Black or any of the others."

"It's strange to think that there have been worse dragons than Smaug." Ori mused. 

"There will always be something worse." Bilbo advised. "Though it may not necessarily be a dragon."

"Balin said you possessed some of your old...talents?" Ori questioned once again changing the subject for a more lighthearted one and Bilbo stared at him, torn between amusement and irritation. 

"Oh did he?" 

"He also said if we had any questions about you then we should act like the 'adult dwarves we pretend to be and ask you ourselves.'" Ori added on and Bilbo was so startled a laugh slipped away from him. 

"I'm guessing you took his advice?" He said still chuckling. He had a feeling he would come to regard Balin the way he did with Gandalf; a friendship that in turns bewildered, pleased, and, exasperated him. 

Ori shrugged, uncaring. "What's the point in sitting around and whispering to each other? You're our friend and you must have had your reasons for not telling us." He paused to peer up anxiously at Bilbo. "You did, didn't you?"

"Yes, I swear I did." He said sincerely and said nothing else about the subject. Ori smiled at him and started talking about a new book he had read but before he could fully get around to it they were interrupted. 

"There you are little brother, I've been looking for you for the last half hour." Nori said smirking lazily. Ori jumped, shocked but Bilbo merely rolled his eyes. "Thorin's called a meeting."

"How long have you been there?" Ori demanded to know, looking over at Bilbo. 

"He's been there the whole time, or close enough." Bilbo said cutting in before Nori could respond at their looks--one incredulous and the other of narrowed eye scrutiny he only shrugged, getting up off the ground. 

"You're too loud, might want to work on that." He advised before smiling cheekily. 

Nori raised an eyebrow at him and only shook his head. "Dragons." he muttered with some scorn and then looked back at them. "Are you two coming? I'm sure the king's already impatient."

"Wouldn't want to keep his majesty waiting." Bilbo said as they started back. 

Ori paused, looking hesitant and then some minutes later he had made up his mind because he asked. "Why do you call him king? Especially after...what's happened between you two."

Even Nori looked interested, or as interested as someone could look when they were purposely trying to look bored. 

"It's not out of any loyalty if that's what you're assuming." Bilbo said dryly. "Thorin is a good man and I'm sure he'll be a good king but he's not mine. I call him King because in my experience calling people by their proper titles when they're trying to decide whether to kill you or not usually works out better than being informal."

"Besides, I think it annoys him just a little bit." He added. 

Everyone was already there by the time they came in and for the first time in days Bilbo found himself staring at Thorin. The dwarf-king didn't so much as look at him.


	13. Of Erebor

"How much longer?" Bilbo said staring up at the hill in dismay. They'd been walking what felt like hours already and there was still so much left. It was funny almost how it hadn't seemed so far away until they were actually walking. 

Ori smiled at him but even that was strained. They were all tired and hot from the beating sun but everyone knew there would be no rest. Not when Thorin looked so restless, so impatient. But then everyone was a bit impatient, this was the penultimate moment of their journey, what they'd been working for years before Bilbo had ever met them.

So they sighed but said nothing else and kept walking up the long mountain, Erebor looming in the distance like a beacon or an omen and it unnerved him that he couldn't decide which it was.

Thick smoke curled from the top of it slowly--lazily. But when he looked again alarmed, there was only nothing and he tried to reassure himself into thinking it was only the mountain's shadow.

"Are you ready?" Nori said with a smirk, stepping in line with Bilbo and Ori who were near the end. He spoke up loud enough that a few of the others looked over, eyeing Bilbo with interest or perhaps suspicion. Bilbo stared back at them until they looked away, Fili and Kili being the first. "Your part is nearly here."

"You'd have to find the door first." Bilbo pointed out dryly. 

"We'll find the door." Ori said quietly but still assured. "We have to."

Nori raised an eyebrow, his grin simply widening. "Can you handle it then burglar?" Bilbo looked feeling eyes upon him again and somehow wasn't surprised to meet Thorin's piercing stare. There was a challenge there, unspoken and fierce and Bilbo refused to back down, not now.

"Yes, I can." He said staring back at him. 

Thorin snorted but was the first to looked away, barking out an order for them to walk faster. 

Bilbo let himself smile for a moment but then reality set back in and his thoughts turned dark again, the triumph from his staredown with Thorin fading away quickly. 

Smaug. 

It always came back to the fire-drake in the end. No matter how Bilbo looked at it he couldn't see this ending neatly. Nothing was ever clean with a dragon involved but Smaug was a completely different matter. The last great dragon they called him and he couldn't say whether that was true but names like that were never given lightly, were they? Bilbo had never heard of him before the dwarves and Gandalf tumbled in and disrupted his comfortable life but he'd seen others like him, had fought with them. He knew the power they possessed more intimately than he knew anything else and he had seen what it took to bring down such a goliath. 

During the war right before things had turned sour he'd seen a grand dragon, scales as red as rubies and embers, with claws the size of tree stumps and teeth the color of night but sharper than any mortal blade. It had been easily one of the biggest of his kind he'd ever seen, with perhaps Ancalagon being only larger than it and it showed in the way it fought, like a beast struck mindless with rage and hate, the way they all were. It had taken nearly a hundred men--a hundred elves to bring it down and it had killed twice that amount before they did. 

And here were they, a band of thirteen dwarves and him. 

It was almost laughable how outnumbered they were, how easily Smaug had outranked them. Almost, because somehow the thought of the company being charred beyond their bones wasn't funny in the slightest. 

The dwarves didn't care about odds. They didn't care about how strong Smaug was or how big he was. Some of them had even witnessed it before, had been in Erebor the day the dragon took it away and that was the reason why they didn't care. 

In their eyes they had already lost once, they couldn't afford it again. They were too proud, too confident to be struck by doubts, to show fear even if they should feel it, especially not of a thing they hated so much. 

Bilbo envied them and hated the tight roll of anxiety awash in his stomach, hated how much he was afraid. 

Once he wouldn't have been. 

"Are you alright?" Ori whispered, looking concerned. 

"Just thinking." He murmured back just as quietly, keeping his eyes ahead. 

"About?" Bilbo shook his head, lips pressed together in a tight line, feet mostly numb now. He'd have to get over it. There was no turning back now and even as terrified as he was, and oh he was terrified, he could admit that much, there was no way he was cowardly enough to do it. 

Not when he had something to prove and maybe his pride would get him killed one of these days or even today but at least he could say he hadn't been a coward. 

"Is it Smaug?" Ori whispered again. 

Bilbo froze but it was only a for a second and somehow Ori still caught it. "We'll be alright, you know."

He said nothing. 

"We have to be." Ori said quieter, barely more than a ghost's voice and Bilbo wondered if he was reassuring him or himself. 

"Look!" Someone--Bofur called out and Bilbo did and there it was Erebor, the last great dwarven city in all its ruined glory. 

The ground closest was still scorched, the land smelt of smoke and dust and death but the company didn't care. They stared as if it was a gift from Aule himself and even Bilbo found himself breathless looking at Erebor up close for the first time. 

He'd seen a great deal of things, pretty and one of a kind. Cities fit for kings of men and elves but somehow they couldn't compare to this hulled out wreckage. Bilbo looked at it and it dazed him. 

The company was silent, stunned or awed and Bilbo pulled his gaze away long enough to look at them. To some this was a homecoming and to others it was an entirely new sight but they all felt like they belonged, he'd never seen Fili or Kili look so sober, even Bofur was solemn and quiet. This place was theirs and they would take it again or die trying. 

He could see it in their eyes, could see it in the way they stood. 

Bilbo stepped closer to Thorin without a thought, only concerned. Thorin didn't look happy but he didn't look angry either. His familiar scowl absent and Bilbo thought he just looked lost. 

"Welcome home, King." he said softly. 

"Not yet." Was all Thorin said, eyes never looking away from his home. How long had Thorin dreamed of seeing it again? Did he ever dream about it or did he push it away, forcing himself to move on but never forgetting, never forgiving what had happened. 

Bilbo stood out of the way as they looked for the door and he thought it was a wise decision indeed when Thorin's tempered grew the more they couldn't find it. 

To be fair it was a hidden door. 

"This is impossible." Kili complained sitting down against a rock and Fili sighed and reluctantly sat down with him. Half the company had given up deeming it hopeless while the other half argued about where it could be. 

Bilbo rolled his eyes and then found himself distracted, attention shifting easily due to the hot sunlight and boredom. It was better than thinking about dying at least or so he told himself. 

"It's an invisible door. How are we supposed to find an invisible door?" He continued. "Isn't the point that you're not supposed to find it?"

"And complaining about it is going to help?" Gloin said wryly, looking half amused and half frustrated. Bofur laughed when Kili sputtered in response, struggling to come up with something to say. 

"Bilbo?"

"Hmm?" Came the absent response, gold eyes lost to the sight of his prey. 

"What are you staring at?" Ori said craning his head but his eye sight wasn't half as good and all he could see was clouds and even then he'd never found clouds so interesting. Maybe it was a hobbit custom Bilbo had picked up? It seemed like something they would do. 

"Hmm?" he repeated, looking for the twitch of dull colored wings. Where had that blasted thing gone? It was so quick. 

"Bilbo?" Ori repeated more firmly and Bilbo blinked, coming back to himself and realizing that more than a few people were looking at him. 

He flushed. "Sorry, there was a bird, I got a bit distracted." It wasn't even that interesting of a bird, small and too useless to be food or adequate prey but he had nothing else to do and the sound of them yelling was hurting his ears and his nose stung with the musk of rotting. 

"Bird?" Gloin said, a gleam of something in his eyes. "Where?"

Bilbo merely pointed and at first Gloin couldn't see it but eventually something small and quick fluttered in and out of his sight. 

"Is that--?" Fili said but stopped. 

Kili frowned, and then his keen eyes widened as he got a better look at the little bird. "Did he really?--"

"What?" Bilbo said confused. 

"Bilbo! Oh, you found the thrush." Ori said excitedly. 

"What?"

"Look." Kili said cutting them off and so they did, watching as the bird, the thrush darted closer and closer and oh, there was something in its talons. Bilbo frowned wondering what it was but before he could ask why it was so important the thrush knocked whatever it had against the side of the mountain. 

It was a quiet sound but somehow it seemed as if all of the company could hear it and suddenly they were all there. The silence broken by a chorus of booming voices and as quick as the thrush knocked a door appeared and even later Bilbo would be surprised that he'd never asked how but it had seemed unimportant at the time. 

Nori looked at him and he thought he saw some sympathy in his eyes. It was probably his imagination because he couldn't imagine Nori caring about anyone except his brothers. "It's time, burglar." he said because even though everyone was looking at him unsure and waiting, Nori was the only one cocky or careless enough to say it. 

Bilbo nodded, sucking in a breath but forcing himself to let it out. He thinks of how easily Thranduil had read his fear, how easily Ori had guessed it. He wonders how long it would take Smaug to do the same. 

"Good luck." Ori said reassuringly. "I know you can do this."

At least he wouldn't die a coward. 

Bilbo stepped forward into the massive doorway, looking apprehensively at the darkness inside. A hand caught his shoulder and pulled him back, turning him around. Thorin just looked at him, grip tight. Even silent something about him irritated Bilbo, somehow those dark eyes said he was afraid, said everyone knew it. 

He yanked his arm back or at least he tried to and found that Thorin's grip was unwavering. 

"Trust me." Bilbo said but he didn't beg, didn't even plead. He said it and he was weary and tired of this all, tired of Thorin and fighting and even adventures. All he wanted was his Shire and his bed and summer nights spent watching hobbits dance and looking at stars. He said it and it sounded like an order but Thorin could take it however he wanted, he didn't care anymore. 

Trust me. 

Just this once. 

Thorin looked at him and Bilbo looked back, eyes gold and sharp and the worst thing Thorin hated had to be reflected right back at him but Thorin didn't look away, didn't even move. Bilbo couldn't say what he was searching for or what he saw (he'd never known Thorin well enough to guess such a thing and now it seemed like he never would but...) but at last Thorin released him. 

Bilbo turned and disappeared into the black, footsteps as light as a ghost, as if that's all he was anymore. 

If the outside of Erebor was a scorched shell then the inside was what was left of the remains. Dust and ash covered the floors and marked the walls, stained and rubbed away the dwarven craftsmanship that had been there before. There were holes everywhere, entire sections collapsed and broken as if something had smashed it into pieces. 

The smell of corpses was so strong it made him gag and Bilbo had to stay still for a few minutes with his hands over his nose. 

Beneath that there was something else, something stronger. It smelt familiar, it smelt of heat and stone, of embers burning in his mouth and fire in his blood and Bilbo knew this was Smaug. 

Against his better judgment Bilbo followed the fire-smell. He walked through empty silent hallways, through the ruins of an ancient city and tried to imagine it as someone's home. 

It was impossible really. Everything was grey and ashy and touched by Smaug's wreckage. He couldn't see Thorin or his kin growing up here, living here. He couldn't even see Smaug staying here.

Death was the only one who could call it home now. 

The mountain was large and the paths were more mazes than anything else and if Bilbo hadn't had his sense of smell he thought he could easily get lost and no one would ever find him. 

Bilbo snorted. Not like there was many people who'd even want to. 

The farther down in the mountain he got, the sharper the smell became so Bilbo walked down countless flights of stairs, down and down until he thought he reached the end only to find more in its place. It was pitch black even to his eyes and he kept a hand to the wall in order to avoid falling into a hole in the floor. 

He walked until at last he came to the heart of the mountain, the center of it all. There was a giant room and the smell was all around him now, bitter and strong and sticking everywhere. There must have been doors on the room once but there was nothing now and Bilbo crept closer, curious despite himself and his fear. 

Gold glittered from every corner, spilling out into an ocean of shimmering jewels and coins and Bilbo couldn't tear his eyes away. It was everything he hated and everything he always desired all at once and Bilbo wanted it as much as he'd wanted that strange ring back so long ago. 

He wanted it because he deserved it, because it called to him, because it was his--

No. 

It was Thorin's and the company's, it was Erebor's gold and he didn't want it. Not really. 

Bilbo stepped further into the room anyways. He stepped onto the gold because it was quite literally everywhere, with nary a bare spot in the room and he couldn't seem to look away from the giant piles. 

Something bright and shiny caught his eye and Bilbo leaned down to pick it up. It was a gem, a blue so pale it was almost white in places and round and Bilbo traced it absently. 

The ground shuddered suddenly, as if it was taking a deep breath and the gold shook and the force of it made it look as if it was moving. Bilbo fell to the ground as the shudders continued and he realized with a sense of oncoming dread that the gold was actually moving.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1\. I'm so very sorry how long this update took, it's been nearly two months but it's been a very busy two months. Regular updates will happen again shortly.


	14. Of Smaug

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys, sorry this has taken so long. I hope you like it. I'm not too sure about the beginning of the chapter but I really like the rest of it.

Bilbo does not think, as he pulls himself up on shaky feet and scrambles to an alcove, dropping the bright gem in the process. The gold shakes and rattles and red scales shine as the dragon appears. “Thief.” the dragon—Smaug calls out with a voice deep and heavy enough to make him shudder. “Come out little thief.”

he does not move, he cannot breathe as Smaug stands, body slithering against the gold and jewels. There is another alcove further down, more hidden and Bilbo rushes towards it, treasure chiming as he runs. Smaug lunges towards the sound, following it and he barely makes it into the alcove, gasping for air and trying to quiet himself. 

“Don't be shy.” Smaug taunts and Bilbo has never heard how a dragon sounds, not to any ears but his own, but he thinks he suddenly understands why a deer freezes at danger. “There's something about you, your smell.”

Bilbo's foot slips amongst the gold and before he can move Smaug is there, staring down at him with one terrible yellow eye. “There you are, thief.” the dragon hisses out and the room is hotter, heat rising quickly. 

“I'm not a thief.” Bilbo stutters. “I have not come here to steal from you, O' Smaug.” He remembers how dragons think, knows that all creatures big and terrifying like flattery and maybe he would be wise to use it but he cannot bring himself too, not if he's just going to burn to death anyway. 

“I value no treasure. I have only come to see a dragon.” Bilbo says and he cannot stop his voice from catching, choking on his own fear. “It seems the tales fall utterly short of your—magnificence.” he needs time, needs to think of a plan but there is no time and he has no plans. He has nothing. 

The dragon stands to his full height, massive even in the gigantic room. “You seem familiar with my name and yet I've never seen one of your kind before.” Smaug moves closer and Bilbo's heart stutters. There is an ache starting to burn in his chest. He thinks this is what absolute fear is like. “Who are you? Where do you come from?”

Bilbo inches away and takes in a breath. “I come from faraway, from green hills and quiet lands. I am small and I can walk unseen, I've stolen treasure right from under an elven-king.”

“Impressive.” the dark voice rumbles. “What else do you claim?”

“I hold few titles and I desire no riches. But surely, a dragon as clever as yourself can see that I'm not all I appear to be?” Beneath the smell of earth, the smell of good food and comfort lingers the dragon-scent. “Isn't there something you recognize?”

“I recognize the smell of _dwarves _.” Smaug hissed out. “Where are your friends, little thief? Where are they hiding?”__

__Bilbo shook his head and stepped back again. “I know no dwarves. I call none friends.” and none would call him the same._ _

__“They sent you in here. To do their dirty work, while they skulk about for my treasure.” Smaug snarled out, great body moving closer. Bilbo is not sure how he knows to move but he manages to dart away when Smaug strikes forward, pillars crashing to the ground._ _

__Smaug speaks but they are a dragon's words meant to distract him and paralyze him with fear so he does not listen, only runs away to wherever he can. But dragon eyes are keen and even as small as he is, as fast as he is there are few places he can hide._ _

__He has no weapon, no way to kill a dragon and Smaug can finish him with one breath. This was death from the start but he still hadn't turned away._ _

__“It's Oakenshield, isn't it? That filthy usurper. He sent you in here for the Arkenstone.” The name is familiar. The company had talked about the Arkenstone, a gem brighter and more beautiful than any other—the treasure of Erebor. Bilbo had been sent to find it but the dragon was a bigger priority, he'd always stressed that it was far too unlikely for Smaug to be dead._ _

__“I don't know any Oakenshield. I don't know of any stone!” He looks for a sword, for any kind of weapon but there is nothing save for the glimmer of gold, useless as it ever was._ _

__“You are being used, little thief of the green hills. Your life has been marked as less valuable than a stone.”_ _

__Bilbo can't say anything only shakes his head. Smaug is taunting him, playing with him like a cat plays with a mouse before it eats it._ _

__“What did he promise you? Honor? Riches—oh, a share of the treasure? A treasure that is not his to give.”_ _

__“I told you, I don't want any treasure.” Bilbo snapped out and a claw struck out suddenly at the pile of gold he was standing on, spilling it and sending him crashing to the floor. The force of the strike made him so far that he hit a pillar, the old stone shuddering beneath him._ _

__“My teeth are swords, my claws spears.” The scales on Smaug's chest burned bright, turning red-hot and for an instant every moment of his past life as a dragon, all of the instances he'd so easily set something on fire came rushing back to him. He'd never once thought about how painful it must have been. “My wings a hurricane.”_ _

__The fire raced toward him and Bilbo could only run, the edges of his cloths singeing from the heat, his skin shuddering from the flames._ _

__“I'm not afraid to die by fire. If you were as clever as they say you'd know why.” Bilbo said and mercifully the fire stopped as quickly as it started._ _

__“What riddle do you think to spin, little thief?”_ _

__He needed to get out, get to the stairs as fast as he could. There would be no way to find that stone, to kill the dragon. Not without a plan, not when he only had his luck._ _

__“No riddle, no trick.” He gasped out, edging closer to the stairs. “Just smell me and tell me if you do not recognize something.”_ _

__Those fierce yellow eyes widened and Smaug smashed forward roaring and wailing, scattering gold and Bilbo took the chance and ran as fast as he could. “Dragon! I smell a dragon, who sent you? Who dares to steal my treasure?”_ _

__Bilbo ran and ran up the stairs but he could hear the dragon behind him, could see the heat blistering along the walls. “Bilbo, you're alive.” A voice said as an arm reach out to wrap around his and Bilbo stopped, realizing he'd been so focused he hadn't even noticed Thorin. The dwarf stared at him and Bilbo wondered if he was imaging the relief in his eyes. He had to be._ _

__“What are you doing here? I thought I told you I could handle this.” He could hear the walls shake and he shook his head. “Never mind that, we have to run!”_ _

__“Did you find the stone?” The hand around his arm tightened, a solid grasp that he couldn't get out of. “The Arkenstone, did you find it?”_ _

__Bilbo stared at him, eyes wide in confusion. There was something strange in his eyes, something ugly and Bilbo didn't like it, didn't like it at all. This was different than before, not the biting anger from Lake-town but something worse.“We need to leave, he's coming.”_ _

__“Did you find it?” Thorin asked—demanded again and somehow suddenly there was a sword being pointed at him and that ugly look in Thorin's eyes only got darker._ _

__No, it wasn't just his eyes, everything was darker as a shadow fell over them and Bilbo turned to look, heart heavy with dread at the sight of Smaug prowling closer._ _

__Thorin pushed him behind him, sword pointed but Bilbo wasn't sure what damage a sword could do. About the same as chucking a pile of gold at Smaug he thought._ _

__There was a roar, like a battle cry and the company came tumbling in, weapons raised and expressions fierce._ _

__Bilbo stared at them incredulously, forgetting his fear for the moment. Smaug roared, fire coming at them and against all logic Bilbo followed the company, running into one of the smaller rooms. They kept running down the long and empty twisted hallways. Their only way out came to a dead end, buried by rocks and the bodies of dwarves from Smaug's attack._ _

__Thorin came up with a plan and Bilbo didn't think it would work but they had nothing else and he didn't want to die like that—struggling to breathe. He'd rather burn to death. Thorin thought it would work, he had to take some small comfort in that._ _

__For one single moment, he thinks it will work. He's not really sure why. Maybe it's the triumphant look on Thorin's face, maybe it's the way Smaug is dazzled by the gold. But for one single moment, he forgets that dragons will never be afraid of fire and prays that the gold will smother Smaug._ _

__Even as the gold covers Smaug, as the mountain grows silent, he knows it hasn't. Smaug bursts, golden and shining and roaring of vengeance. For the first time in years Smaug leaves the mountain and the world is set to burn._ _

__Bilbo follows after, closer then any others, Smaug's words ringing in his ears. This is all their fault. He's petrified and furious and there is nothing they can do and it is all their fault._ _

_No _.__

____He stands on crumbling stone and watches horrified as Smaug soars towards Lake-town, a disaster, an omen. Faintly he can hear the company—a tumbling mess of confused and panicked voices but it sounds like they're miles away from him and it's hard to hear anything over the quickening of his own heart._ _ _ _

____It's hard to feel anything under the terror, under the shock of Smaug leaving the mountain, of even just witnessing Smaug but eventually Bilbo realizes there's something else. A dull ache throbs along his entire body, painful enough that he stumbles barely catching himself. The ache turns sharp and flares, sinking hooks into him and this time Bilbo falls and he can hear the washed out sound of Ori calling his name._ _ _ _

____His vision flashes white—hot and painful, and Bilbo lets out a low moan of pain, hand clutching at his chest, gasping for air. His heart is beating too fast, it's beating too fast and it will burst from his chest._ _ _ _

____“Bilbo!”_ _ _ _

____Everything is heat and fire and Bilbo wants to claw off his skin, to get it away from him right now. _Move_ , the fire whispers and the hooks pull, he climbs to shaky feet and he steps closer to the edge of the mountain and it is only as he starts running that he realizes what is happening. ____

______It didn't feel like this last time. Last time it hadn't hurt until he'd failed and even then the pain had been sudden like being stabbed. Everything had felt broken and wrong and he'd known as soon as he'd started that it would fail._ _ _ _ _ _

______This is different. This is heat rising, pulling away his skin and his bones and even if it hurts a part of Bilbo sings out in joy. Nothing about being a dragon was ever easy, nothing came without pain at one point or another._ _ _ _ _ _

______Bilbo runs to the edge of the mountain and he does not think, does not stop—only jumps._ _ _ _ _ _

______In the distance someone screams his name._ _ _ _ _ _

______There is a rush of blood in his ears, the roaring of wildfire and then—and then he is nothing._ _ _ _ _ _

______Bones break, skin falls away, and it does not feel wrong but right, this is who he is. This is what he always is._ _ _ _ _ _

______There are no bright flashes of light, nothing but the glow of Lake-town on flames._ _ _ _ _ _

______Bilbo falls and falls._ _ _ _ _ _

______a dragon rises._ _ _ _ _ _

______The dragon is him and it is not. It remembers it was called Bilbo once, it remembers soft earth and smallness—a life of being breakable and restrained, but that feels a lifetime away against the feel of his wings and the righteousness of a body that can carve mountains. Bilbo is soft and kind and it is nothing but heat and sky._ _ _ _ _ _

______The dragon does not falter under the weight of its wings for you cannot forget how to fly if you've belonged to the air. This is the kind of knowledge that goes past skin and bones, it marks into your soul and the dragon soars and soars, spiraling into the black. The world is suddenly sharp and colorful—a thousand sights and sounds brought new. If it remembered the word it might call it beautiful._ _ _ _ _ _

______It charges for the town, the flames and screams a call as much as a warning and it is not sure if it going to crush the other dragon—Smaug that is its name—or to join._ _ _ _ _ _

______The dragon reaches the town and hesitates, there is fear and anger, some instinct telling it to flee at the sight of Smaug, the sound of people screaming and crying. Smaug has not seen it yet, it could flee, to that place with rolling green hills or the kingdom of elves, it could leave the mountain and its treasure and take its freedom back, build a hoard of its own and ignore Smaug, the way their kind often do._ _ _ _ _ _

______But then there is a flash of something, a memory maybe. It is of a dwarf—dark eyes and dark hair, and there is its voice speaking, the voice it has when it is small and quiet. It cannot understand the words, the dragon has only just awoken and the common tongue is a distant fuzzy memory. But emotions run differently for dragons and it knows a promise when it hears it, an oath._ _ _ _ _ _

______The dragon lets out a roar, buildings shudder, the earth shakes, and Smaug looks up._ _ _ _ _ _

______Their bodies clash like the roar of a storm, the boom of thunder and the force would break the bones of anything else. Their kind do not fight each other often. It's a necessity if they want any part of their species to survive. For dragons are brutal and unforgiving, and they do not stop. They will never stop._ _ _ _ _ _

______Claws and teeth can pierce better than any elven arrow or dwarfish sword. They are a devastation._ _ _ _ _ _

______Smaug roars, fire burning hotter than any forge but the heat does nothing, it stands unflinching. If it was an ice-drake perhaps but fire is its weapon as well and the other dragon snaps back, teeth pulling at scales, digging into the molten gold and pulling away barely anything. When it was small, the dragon thought Smaug was big—it had been afraid of its size and its fire but now he is bigger, twice the size of his foe._ _ _ _ _ _

______Now Smaug is _nothing_. _ _ _ _ _ _

________Smaug's teeth clench down scrapping the skin of its back and aiming for a wing, for any bit sensitive and the dragon snaps back twisting around to sink its own fangs into anything it can grab. There is a roar, from it, from Smaug and the dragon lets itself fall, pulling Smaug down with its' massive weight._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________They plummet towards the lake and Smaug yanks his jaws free and the other dragon spirals away, wings still intact. There is a single moment where they are both still and they look at each other and then it's broken._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________They charge and it is the same as before. A clash of one's jaws and the desperate attempt of the other to pull away. Again and again. They pant, bleeding but neither will stop. Smaug's scales are too well-protected and the other dragon is too big, too strong even in a body so new, for the bites to do much damage._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________Smaug bites longer, pulling away the weakest of its scales but each time the other dragon holds onto it and makes for the water. They stay away from the town, there is a much bigger threat than the weapons of men._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________They collide over and over and at last the dragon moves at the right moment and sinks its jaw into its enemy's softer underbelly. Golden scales, jeweled and bright cover nearly all of it but there is a weakness hiding among them, clear to its newly sharp eyes and it bites down and pulls, tugging even as fire hits its scales, as Smaug roars. It pulls and pulls and Smaug copies its trick and races towards the water, throwing the other dragon away from his belly._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________Some of the scales fall away, and it can smell blood—the blood of men and the acidic scent of dragons._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

_________I am fire_ it snarls, charging forward and Smaug's tail smacks into him like a brick swiping away his teeth. __ _ _ _ _ _ _

___________I am death_ it says and it bites and bites, and it cannot breathe with all the blood in its mouth. The dragon's tongue burns and its throat is raw and melting but it cannot stop biting. Claws scrape down the dragon's back, reaching and reaching and then there is an agonizing pain in its wing and the sound of something shredding. The claws hook in and pull—__ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

____________The dragon howls in pain and suddenly Smaug starts to fall, a dead giant weight and the dragon tries to pull itself free but its sharp teeth are still trapped in Smaug's flesh and Smaug's giant claws are still wrapped around its bleeding broken wing._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

____________They fall and fall and the water wraps over the both of them._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

____________The dragon cannot breathe and they are sinking under their heavy weight and it struggles to free itself but the lake is stronger than either of them and it swallows them whole._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

_____________You belong to me_ the lake says and it drowns them both and the dragon has died before but never like this. __ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________The last thing the dragon sees is the strange red-orange glow of fire beneath the water and the black arrow sticking out of the dead dragon's belly._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Once again, I'm sorry this has taken so long. also like three different things were meant to be italicized but they weren't because ao3 hates me :/
> 
> For anyone still interested in my personal life. I finished up this semester of school and somehow managed to pass my classes which was pretty great. I'm still sick however and I'm still going to doctor's apps but they were delayed by school. At this point my doctor is thinking it is probably a chronic illness so it's unfortunately something I'm going to have to get used to. 
> 
> The next update will definitely come sooner now that I have school off. This chapter was really difficult to write because I didn't want to just rehash the last bit of DoS. 
> 
> I'm sorry if Smaug's battle with Bilbo is weird (because Dragon!Bilbo doesn't really have name and was being referred to as it/the dragon. but i thought it would add to the fact that actual dragon!bilbo views things much differently than our bilbo)
> 
>  
> 
> You can reach me at tumblr at thorinoakentwig.tumblr.com if you want progress on updates/to yell at me/talk about things. 
> 
> Thanks for being so kind and supportive! You guys are truly the greatest.


	15. Of After

The first thing he knows is blackness. The world is heavy and dark and for a long time there is only him. He thinks he's felt this before but any attempt to remember fades away as quickly as it came to him, the effort too much. The second thing he knows is the terrible ache in his throat, blackness burning down it and clawing--covering his eyes as he struggles to breathe. The weight of the world hits his chest and pulls him down at the same time something tugs ferociously at him.

He feels like he's being pulled into two and he tries to call out for whoever to stop only for more of the blackness to sweep in, its heaviness sinking like an anchor in his chest. Someone says something, shouts it maybe but the sound is warbled and he can't understand. 

A feeling tugs at him, more than the horrible burn in his throat and he tries to follow it but loses whatever thought it was immediately. There is no room for it here, the burning rules over everything.

The pulling grows harsher and at last, some of the black fades away and the air is cold but heat still lingers on his face, in his chest. The sound from before is louder now but still so unclear and he struggles to open his eyes. For a second orange light flickers in front of him but it's too bright, painfully bright, and he snaps them shut. 

Now there is pain, dull at first but quickly sharpening and he groans. All at once everything hurts even as he realizes that there is more to him than the blackness. 

His head feels heavy.

Everything feels heavy. 

Exhaustion sinks in and he tries to focus, something is happening, something important but he can't remember what. It's too much for him, too big of a burden to even try to think about and he reluctantly lets himself go with one terrible thought coming in slowly at the last moment. 

'Where are my wings?' 

Then again there is nothing, the blackness it seems always wins in the end. 

It's different now, not the heavy crush of darkness and the struggle to remember, to think past it all. Different but perhaps not much better. This time he thinks he dreams. 

He's on a grassy hill and there's green all around him and the sky is bright blue. In the distance he can he hear the sound of children playing, people laughing, and the crackle of fireworks. 

A couple stand nearby watching him, calling out to him though he doesn't recognize the sound. They look impossibly familiar—the woman with her bright mischievous eyes and the man with his kind smile. 

Do you know me? He wants to ask but fears saying anything will break the strange peace and they'll slip away through his fingers like ashes. 

Once again there is no sound, no words but he feels someone calling him all the same and he turns. A company of men stand nearby, as familiar as the couple with their cheerful looks and jumble of weapons. The man standing at the front with the dark eyes is the one he can't look away from. 

A feeling rises up in him but it's different this time, more than just that untraceable recognition, something deeper and without thinking about it he takes a step towards them—towards _him _. He takes one more step and the dream shatters, rolling green and sky blue slipping away only into nothing.__

__The next time he wakes up it's easier. He knows that he's a person now even if he doesn't remember who. He thinks he was big once and then he was small and now he's not sure on which he is just that everything is terribly painful but maybe that's a good thing too. If it hurts then at the very least that means he still has limbs to be hurt._ _

__He still can't open his eyes but his hearing is better. No longer the uncomfortable distorted mess from before._ _

__“--any better?” he thinks he knows that voice even if he couldn't say who it belongs to._ _

__“He hasn't woken up but I think so. What's he even doing here, Da? I thought he went with the dwarves to the mountain.”_ _

__the other voice is quieter this time. Unsure perhaps. “To help.”_ _

__He opens his mouth to speak but by the time he remembers how to, he realizes he's exhausted and slips back into sleep assured that at least for now he'll wake up again._ _

__Bilbo wakes and this time it was with a sense of calm. He remembered everything to a point—the quest, encountering Smaug, a burning so strong that it had swept away all traces of his humanity. He did not exactly remember how he came to be here or where here even was but he could guess._ _

__For the first time in who knows how long Bilbo was strong enough to move and with some effort he sat up and opened his eyes. The tent he was in was unfamiliar and empty, through the thin walls of the fabric he could hear the sounds of people crying, of someone moaning in pain._ _

__He sat there, considering how difficult walking could be when the tent opened and a young woman stepped in. She didn't notice him awake at first but startled when she did, eyes widening for a moment before a frown crossed her face. “Oh what are you doing sitting up? Lay back down before you irritate your shoulder.”_ _

__“Sorry?” Bilbo tried to say but found himself coughing before anything could come out, a terrible ache rising in his throat in response. The woman was by his side in an instant, moving him in a way to make breathing more bearable._ _

__When his hand came away from his mouth he found it covered in thick black specks. Smaug's blood Bilbo thought and at least now he didn't have to wonder why his throat had hurt so badly for dragon blood was nearly acidic and who knew how much of it he'd swallowed if he'd fought Smaug._ _

__When his coughing had died down the woman handed him a waterskin looking sympathetic. “Drink—and slowly at that, I need to go get Da. He'll be happy you've woken up at last.”_ _

__He shouldn't have been surprised when Bard stepped into the tent but somehow he was. The man looked like he'd seen better days, he was covered in cuts and bruises with his eyes deeply shadowed and haggard looking. The smell of smoke lingered about him._ _

__“We were beginning to think you'd never wake.”_ _

__“What happened?” Bilbo asks, thankful this time when no coughing followed though his voice was raspy and it hurt a great deal to speak._ _

__Bard looked over at him some hidden emotion on his face. “What do you remember?”_ _

__“We went into the mountain. Smaug woke up and we tried to stop him but nothing worked.” Bilbo says slowly, brow furrowed as he tried to remember. “He left for Lake-town, he must have smelt you on us or thought you had helped us in someway...I was—I was so angry.”_ _

__“Then what?”_ _

___'I was on fire' _Bilbo thought.__ _ _

____“I...I don't remember.” It was all a blur of heat and anger, sharp and biting before turning into nothing._ _ _ _

____“Smaug came down from the mountain and burned the town.” Bard says quietly. “And then another dragon appeared, larger and greater than even our worst fears.”_ _ _ _

____Bilbo froze, stunned but Bard continued. “The other dragon did not burn the town but attacked Smaug. After you distracted Smaug, I managed to shoot him with an arrow and pierced through is armor. He fell into the lake and took you down with him.”_ _ _ _

____“You knew what I was and you still saved me? Why?” He asks confused._ _ _ _

____Bard looked equally as surprised but for a different reason. “Because you saved _us _. If you hadn't fought Smaug I think many more people would have died.”___ _ _ _

______“How did you find me when I fell?” Memories were coming back to him in bits and pieces and he remembered Smaug's claws gripping into his wing and pulling him down with him. Bard must have saved him or he would have drowned with him._ _ _ _ _ _

______“I went to see if you were dead, both of you because I didn't know who you were at the time. Smaug's body was already sinking beneath the surface of the lake but I saw you in the water as you are now, saw the wound on your shoulder and knew what had happened even as impossible as it seemed.”_ _ _ _ _ _

______“Thank you.” Bilbo says as sincerely as he can manage, overwhelmed as he is. Smaug is dead and somehow he is still alive, somehow they all are. “There are not many who would have done the same. I think most would have let me drown and consider it a fit ending.”_ _ _ _ _ _

______Bard stood and clasps a hand on his arm gently as if afraid to hurt him which seemed insane when contrasted with what they had just been discussing. “There is no thanks needed. I have to go but my daughter Sigrid will come back soon to check on you.”_ _ _ _ _ _

______Bilbo nods and then pauses. “If you come back later. I'll tell you the whole story and answer any questions you may have.”_ _ _ _ _ _

______Bard agrees and at some point he must have fallen asleep again because he's woken up to someone gently shaking him. “Master Hobbit?”_ _ _ _ _ _

______The woman from before—Sigrid he presumed was there. She a pile of torn cloth at her side. “Your rest is important but I think changing your bandages might matter even more.”_ _ _ _ _ _

______“Right, of course.” With her help he manages to sit up again, this time more aware of the pain in his right shoulder and the effort it takes to move it. It's agonizing in a way and he's surprised he didn't notice it sooner._ _ _ _ _ _

______When he voices this she laughs quietly but it's not much of a happy sound. “When we first found you we gave you some herbs to help with the pain but we've had to use them sparingly. There's just not enough to go around.”_ _ _ _ _ _

______“I understand.” How many were wounded in the burning of Lake-town? How many had been killed by his company's ways? He remembered before how he told Bard that Smaug would wake up no matter what but it felt worse now, the guilt much harder to ignore as he thought about how many must have suffered._ _ _ _ _ _

______“You're very lucky.” Sigrid says conversationally with a focused look on her face as she unwraps the bandages around his shoulder. When he looks at them he sees them covered in black and red. His blood and Smaug's poison._ _ _ _ _ _

______“Lucky?”_ _ _ _ _ _

______“Luckier than some. We thought at first that you might never move your arm again, that's how badly your shoulder was hurt. I'm not a healer, there's not many left around and they couldn't stay with anyone for too long. We thought it might get infected.”_ _ _ _ _ _

______“And now?” He could not recall if he'd ever been hurt before this seriously. Enough where he might lose a limb. He healed quicker than most and the Shire had been peaceful nearly the entire time he was there. The spiders in Mirkwood forest came closest._ _ _ _ _ _

______Sigrid smiles. “Now it seems much better. I think as long as we keep it restrained in a sling you should heal up nicely.”_ _ _ _ _ _

______She wrapped one last layer over his shoulder and then stood to leave. “Get some sleep Master Baggins and gather your strength. Da says we'll all need it for tomorrow.”_ _ _ _ _ _

______“What happens tomorrow?” He asks but Sigrid had already left, moving on to the next tent by the sounds of it._ _ _ _ _ _

______For the rest of the day Bilbo either slept though it seemed as if he had been sleeping forever or spent time thinking about his friends and the people of Lake-town. There was little else he could do when it took a great deal of effort to move, to talk without pain. He wasn't sure how much strength he could get in a day but he hoped it was enough for whatever Bard had in mind._ _ _ _ _ _

______Later at night when it grew cold Bard returned, looking just as troubled as before perhaps even more. “I believe you have a tale to tell me.” he says kindly._ _ _ _ _ _

______It's easier than telling the dwarves now that he knows that for some strange reason Bard does not fear him. He asks less questions than Ori but when they come they're always inquisitive and not demanding._ _ _ _ _ _

______“That's what your quarrel with the dwarves was about, isn't it?” Bard asks when he has finished and some time has passed in silence. Bilbo because he can do little else without falling tired and Bard so he can think in peace._ _ _ _ _ _

______“What?”_ _ _ _ _ _

______“Before you left for the mountain. We spoke and you mentioned they'd become angry at you. They found out didn't they?”_ _ _ _ _ _

______Bilbo had hardly remembered, that day seemed so long ago in comparison to everything else. “Yes. They didn't take it well but I would have been shocked if they had. Dwarves aren't fond of dragons for obvious reasons.”_ _ _ _ _ _

______Before he might have begrudged them their fear, he remembered being hurt and angry at them, at their lack of trust but now everything was cast under the shadow of Smaug. Smaug who'd caused so much destruction and Bilbo who for all his words had become just as mindless at the first chance. He hadn't hurt anyone but he remembered a little of his dragon self's thoughts, remembered it questioning whether to run, whether to go somewhere else and create its own hoard. He doesn't know how he'll feel when he sees the company again, if he ever does, but he thinks he understands a bit more now. He's been remained of the damage a dragon can wrought._ _ _ _ _ _

______“What will you do next? You could leave here and be free from Thorin Oakenshield's company. I don't think he'll take it kindly what you've done or you could stay with us if need be. We don't have much but I think we can manage a hobbit to take care of.”_ _ _ _ _ _

______There a thousand responses he wants to say all at once. He needs to see that they live, that Thorin lives though they were all well when he left the mountain. He needs to flee because he cannot imagine going into that gold filled mountain again. He cannot imagine facing whatever judgment Thorin has of him._ _ _ _ _ _

______“I don't know.” he says at last._ _ _ _ _ _

______“You have time. I'd advise you to make no hasty decisions Bilbo Baggins. I think what happens next will matter a great deal.” Bard leaves soon after but Bilbo cannot sleep. Thoughts of the future run through his head. The future of Lake-town, the future of the company and his own future if he has one._ _ _ _ _ _

______Later when it's grown colder Bilbo tries to light a ball of fire, nothing appears and absently half-asleep he wonders how much strength he needs to recover._ _ _ _ _ _

______In the morning it's like stepping into a whole new world. Sigrid wakes him up and lets him leave the tent though she bides her younger sister, Tilda to watch over him and report if he seems like he's in too much pain._ _ _ _ _ _

______For the first time Bilbo sees the devastation Smaug and himself has brought and it takes his breath away, like a punch to his chest._ _ _ _ _ _

______The town has been destroyed to mere rubble and he can see no building that's been left untouched. According to Bard it's been three days since Smaug's death but some of the town still smolders with flames. Around him there are many more tents like his own—raggedy and made out of whatever can support it. People lay everywhere wounded and dying or already dead. The smell of smoke and death lingers in the air and Bilbo almost gags with it._ _ _ _ _ _

______“Is there anywhere I can wash up?” he asks Tilda somewhat desperately. He needs to step away from this all for a moment, needs to get away from that unbearable smell. Tilda takes him farther down the shore, a ways away from the main site and tells him she'll look for him in half an hour if he is not back by then._ _ _ _ _ _

______It takes many minutes to manage stripping out of his clothes and the sling Sigrid has given him and he notices for the first time that they're borrowed. He wonders if they burned up when he changed at Erebor or if they were ruined beyond repair by his fall into the lake._ _ _ _ _ _

______It takes even longer to get himself clean. Tilda or someone else has kept the area near his wounded shoulder clean but the rest of him is covered in ashes and muck. Bilbo is nearly finished when he realizes there are still splotches of dirt left on him and he scrubs at them even harder. Frowning when they remain._ _ _ _ _ _

______He sets aside his soap and when he touches them they fall away as easily as anything else. Gently, afraid of how fragile they appear to be he picks one of the fallen pieces up. When he brings it closer he can see that it isn't dirt for it shines a bright bronze in the light._ _ _ _ _ _

______Dread curls in his stomach. “My scales?”_ _ _ _ _ _

______Bilbo drops it like it burns him and it sits there floating slowly in the water. He touches another patch on his arm and they falls away like the first. He remembers the patches on his shoulder, thick like armor and touches his back. When he pulls away a pile of them sit in his hand. Last time it took a knife to pry away one and now a touch of his finger takes away dozens._ _ _ _ _ _

______He doesn't know if it because of his change or because of something Smaug's bite has done to him, he only knows that when he looks at them it makes him almost physically ill. “No fire, no scales, not much of a dragon left.” he mutters as he hurries to finish, a bath no longer so appealing._ _ _ _ _ _

______Within the hour they start packing up all their supplies and urging those who can walk to help those who can't. Bilbo helps out in whatever ways he can whether that be by loading more kindling or tending to someone who looks like they're about to fall over. A few times Sigrid gives him a look when she thinks he's putting too much weight on his shoulder and after the second or third time Tilda is sent to assist him and follows him around for the rest of the day._ _ _ _ _ _

______“You're heading to Dale.” Bilbo says as Bard starts to lead the trek. He wonders how many more will die getting to the abandoned city.  
“We need shelter before winter sets in or we'll die out in the open.” Bard confirms. _ _ _ _ _ _

______A thought occurs him not for the first time but now he's weary enough that he actually voices it. “You turn to Thorin for help.”_ _ _ _ _ _

______“We turn to him for compensation.” A thunderous look crosses Bard's face and Bilbo almost wishes he hadn't brought it up at all. “We are no thieves Bilbo, we only want enough to survive.”_ _ _ _ _ _

______“I'd offer you my share if I still had one.” Bilbo says quietly._ _ _ _ _ _

______“Do you think Thorin will honor it? The due that he and his company owes Lake-town?”_ _ _ _ _ _

______“I think that for all his faults, Thorin Oakenshield is one of the most honorable people I know. That is all I can offer you.” Bilbo says considerately. He can only hope that hasn't changed in the short time since they've last seen each other._ _ _ _ _ _

______Bard looks no less worried and much of the rest of the trek is spent in silence. Everyone is pushed to their limits in an effort to reach Dale before nightfall. Bilbo is exhausted by only midday but says no protests._ _ _ _ _ _

______The people react to Dale in a variety of ways—some are stunned into silence, others fall to their knees whether out of some strange nostalgia or because they are so tired they cannot stand, some cry. It reminds Bilbo of the company in a way, back after the fight with Azog and when they'd seen the Lonely Mountain in the distance._ _ _ _ _ _

______Bilbo helps as many people set up and find shelter as he can before he sets off to find Bard. He finds him surrounded by his children in one of the many wrecked buildings, huddled together for warmth. It's the first time Bilbo's seen him sit all day._ _ _ _ _ _

______Bard looks at him. “You're leaving then?”_ _ _ _ _ _

______He nods. “It might not make sense to you or anyone else...but I can't just abandon them now. They might not count themselves as friends as mine but I cannot say the same.” Even if half of the company ignores him or avoids him outright._ _ _ _ _ _

______“You're a good man Bilbo Baggins.” Bard says sticking out his hand to shake._ _ _ _ _ _

______Bilbo smiles. “Not exactly a man.”_ _ _ _ _ _

______“Hobbit then.” Bard amends._ _ _ _ _ _

______“Not really one of those either.” Bilbo says goodbye to Bard's children next, thanking Sigrid and Tilda for all their care._ _ _ _ _ _

______The distance from Dale and the gates of Erebor is not so far but it feels like a lifetime for Bilbo to cross. He doesn't know how Thorin or the others will react. He swore he was harmless and even though he didn't know it to be a lie he can't see it mattering that much. Even still some treacherous part of him is relieved to know he'll be seeing his friends again, relieved to see Thorin._ _ _ _ _ _

______“Dragons are not afraid of anything.” Bilbo reminds himself and resigned to whatever fate Thorin has for him begins to move forward, the few lights of Erebor glittering into the night like a warning._ _ _ _ _ _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always I am apologizing for how long this update took but at least it's updated finally?
> 
> I realized Bard's reaction might seem strange to some of you. But he seems like someone who for the most part thinks the best of people such as assuming Thorin will help Lake-town. 
> 
> Not alot of the company in this chapter but they'll be in the next one for sure. I thought considering the events that happens next it'd be best to show Bilbo recovering. Also letting you all know there is maybe 3 or 4 chapters left so this story will definitely be finished despite how long updates take.
> 
> Once again thank you for being the best readers anyone could ask for, I hope this chapter was a somewhat adequate consolation for how long it to to get written. 
> 
> as always you can reach me at thorinoakentwig.tumblr.com

**Author's Note:**

> if you have any questions/comments/concerns/complaints/want to yell at me you can reach me at windyree.tumblr.com
> 
> 1\. I would just like to point out that I said this wasn't a happy chapter. 
> 
> 2\. I tried to be as realistic to Thorin's character as I could and I honestly don't think he'd react positively to something like this. I mean he exiled Bilbo for stealing a gem, imagine being something as awful as a dragon.


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